Crossing the Lines
by Firewind
Summary: When Ryoga loses his memory, Ranma and the others find themselves stretching the truth...but how far is too far, and what will be the outcome?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and the associated companies. I do not own the characters, nor do I claim to own them, and no profit is being made off of this.

~Part 1~

"You jerk!  How dare you!" 

            Ranma felt the wind of the punch as it flew past the side of his head, less than an inch away.  He didn't have much time to dwell on the distance as he dodged again, then brought up his arms to block the blow he predicted would follow.  Correctly predicted, he decided, trying not to wince as Ryoga's fist connected with his forearms.  It wasn't often that he had to actually block an attack from Ryoga; he was usually quick enough to simply move out of the way.  But there were certain occasions when the Lost Boy managed to put some of his anger into speed as opposed to channeling it into his already-considerable strength.  Ranma was realizing, a bit belatedly, that this was one of those occasions.  He wondered dimly if it had been the comment about the bacon or the one about falling for the long-lost fiancée routine that had pushed Ryoga into it.

            _Probably a little of both,_ he thought as one of the Lost Boy's punches got partially through his block and landed a glancing blow.  

            "Ryoga, c'mon!  I was kidding, stupid-"

            "Shut _up_!" Ryoga raged, all but ignoring the hit Ranma landed on his chest.  

"Would you calm down already?" the pigtailed boy asked, though he knew that would have about as much of an effect as asking a mountain to get up and walk.  Less, probably.  

            "When you're in hell!"

            Ranma sighed inwardly.  He knew he should've learned by now to watch his mouth a little better, but he constantly forgot how fine the line was between an insult that would goad Ryoga into a fight and one that would sent him flying into a fit of nearly-limitless fury.  The bacon remark hadn't been nice, but Ryoga was generally used to that kind of thing.  Bringing up the fiancée bit, on the other hand, was probably not one of the wisest decisions Ranma had ever made.  That event was a lasting sore spot with the Lost Boy.  Which made perfect sense, Ranma supposed—after all, he'd only embarrassed Ryoga in front of Akane and Ukyo, toyed with his emotions, and made him feel stupid and unwanted to the point where he'd been crying.  

But that had all happened months and months ago, so Ranma had thought it would've worn off by now.  Judging from the mix of bright anger and underlying hurt in the Lost Boy's eyes, he was obviously wrong.

"Ryoga," Ranma tried again, ducking as the other boy's foot swung at his head, "cut it out already.  It was a joke!"

"Do you think this is funny?!" the bandana'd boy snarled, throwing another stream of fierce punches that Ranma was sure would hurt a great deal if they hit him.

_Well, not anymore,_ Ranma thought.  And it was true.  Despite the amusement he got out of teasing Ryoga sometimes, this was kind of extensive.  His conscience was nagging him, he was starting to get a little tired, and perhaps the roof hadn't been the _best_ of places to pick a fight…

Now, it is a well-known fact in Nerima that there almost always seems to be some abnormal external power of sorts hanging over the town.  Some say that Nerima is Fate's playground.  Others argue that the Nerima is one of those set places on the Earth that is just a vortex for trouble, a Bermuda Triangle of sorts.  Others feel that it's the spot in the universe dedicated to some higher power's experimentation with some odd splicing of Murphy's Law and the Chaos Theory.  All of these are fairly reasonable guesses, considering.

But it could just be a whole lot of plain bad luck for a select group of its residents.

This was what Ranma was figuring in his mind over the next several seconds.  One moment, he and Ryoga were involved in a rather nasty fight on the roof of the Tendo home, the next moment Ranma was aiming a kick that he didn't really think would land while Ryoga was moving to block it.

This would've been fine, except for the sudden intervention of the local lingerie-obsessed pervert who came sailing through at the exact moment when it was critical that the Lost Boy's attention be focused on Ranma's incoming attack.  And being that Ryoga's attention span had predictability equivalent to that of a butterfly in flight, it was not surprising that he was instantaneously distracted by the sight of a little old lecher soaring past yelling "My sweetums!" while heading in the general direction of the clothesline.  Therefore, instead of completing the movement into a position that would've blocked the pigtailed boy's kick, Ryoga ended up leaving the perfect opening.

So, one moment, Ryoga was about to block, and the next he was glancing up at the airborne Happosai.  Then Ranma was busy thinking _oops_, and the instant after that he was watching Ryoga flying through the air.  He had another brief moment to think about how at least Akane wasn't around because it looked like Ryoga was headed straight for the koi pond, then got a surprise as he realized he'd overshot the Lost Boy's predicted landing spot.  And instead of Ryoga falling in the relative safety of the water, he landed on the rocks surrounding the pond itself.

Head first.

Ranma grimaced at the resulting crack that was audible even from his place on the roof.  As he expected, Ryoga didn't look like he was in any hurry to get back up.

_Ah, great.  Now he'll have a headache _and _he'll be pissed,_ Ranma thought sourly as he leapt down off the roof and headed over to where the other boy was lying sprawled on the ground.

"Stupid," Ranma muttered.  He looked about the yard idly as he waited for Ryoga to come around.  

Five minutes later, the yard was getting boring.

"Come on already, moron," Ranma said.  "Any time today is good."  Ryoga didn't move, and Ranma scowled.  He crouched down beside him and shook him slightly.

"C'mon, P-chan, up an' at 'em."

That didn't seem to work.  

"Yo!  Wakey-wakey, Pig-boy!" Ranma said loudly.  

Ryoga didn't even stir.

Ranma scratched the back of his head.  This was weird; Ryoga didn't usually stay out cold for long.  He shook the Lost Boy again, harder.

"Ryoga!  What the heck?  You better not be fakin' it."

Ranma waited a long moment.  If Ryoga was faking it, he was doing a good job.

Ranma reached out and slapped him lightly on the cheek.

Nothing happened.

At this point, something that sounded a bit like an alarm bell was going off in the back of Ranma's mind.  Then he got an idea.

"Hey, Ryoga, Akane told me she's got a crush on you!"

Ranma waited expectantly.  If that didn't wake him up, nothing would…

It didn't.

_Uh-oh_.

Ranma did the only other thing he could think of to do…

"KASUUUMIIIII!!!"

* * * * * * * * * *

Light.

It was bright, too bright, it hurt…

Ryoga lifted a hand to cover his eyes, letting out a low moan of pain as he moved.

"Here he is," someone said.

"Maybe you should turn off the lamp." 

Ryoga sat up slowly and tentatively uncovered his eyes.  The light still hurt, but it wasn't so bright anymore.  He blinked a few times, and the pain receded.  But something still wasn't right.  His head…

"Don't touch."  Someone caught his hand.

Ryoga tugged it away.  He didn't recognize that voice.

Where _was _he?

A house.  The inside of a house, near a porch.  He could see the yard.

But it wasn't where he lived.

Feeling nervous, Ryoga turned to look at the people beside him.  There was a girl kneeling next to him, with soft brown hair pulled into a ponytail on her shoulder and warm brown eyes.  She appeared to be a few years older than he was.  There was another girl standing behind her, also with brown hair, but it was darker and shorter, only coming to her chin.  She looked to be a little older than him, maybe.  She stared at him with cool, curious eyes that were full of appraisal and scrutiny.  He didn't like it.  A boy his age was sitting cross-legged next to the first girl.  He had black hair, tied back in a pigtail, and was wearing Chinese-style clothes.  His eyes were dark blue, and he was gazing at him attentively and looking a little worried.  There was another girl beside the boy, with short blue-black hair and concerned brown eyes. 

            "How do you feel, Ryoga?" asked the oldest girl in a sweet, kind voice.  She smiled warmly.

Ryoga blinked at her, his feeling of anxiety deepening despite the kind voice and gentle aura surrounding her.  She'd used his name…

"It's about time ya woke up," added the boy.  Any worry that may have been there was gone, replaced by a look of uncaring nonchalance.  "Huh.  I woulda thought your head was hard enough so that you wouldna even conked out in the first place." 

Ryoga didn't reply, and the boy looked at him oddly.  "Yo, what's the matter with you?  You forget how to talk or somethin', P-chan?"

Ryoga glanced around at them all once more, trying to figure out what was going on.  The way they were talking, it was like…

But that couldn't be.

Ryoga was positive that he'd never seen any of these people before in his life.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ranma blinked at the boy sitting in front of him, wondering at the silence.  Sure, Ryoga had landed pretty hard, but he was still acting awfully weird.  Ranma tipped his head to one side as the Lost Boy stared at him blankly.

"Ryoga?  Anybody home?" Ranma asked.

The other boy swallowed.  "Um…do I know you?"

Ranma could practically feel his jaw hit the floor.

"Oh, my," Kasumi said.  

It took a long moment for the pigtailed boy to shake off his surprise.  "Oh, I get it," he drawled.  "Yeah, funny Ryoga.  You almost had me goin' there for a second."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow.  "Since when did he become a practical joker?"

Ryoga glanced between the two for a moment, then looked at Kasumi.  "I-I hope you don't think me rude," he said.  "But…how do you know my name?"

"Ah, get off it already!" Ranma said, his voice filling with annoyance.

Ryoga frowned slightly.  "What are you talking about?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"C'mon!" Ranma snapped, a scowl settling on his features.

Akane elbowed him.  "Ranma…I don't think he's fooling," she said, her voice hushed.  

Ranma turned back to the Lost Boy and stared at him hard.  Ryoga looked back at him for a moment, then fidgeted uncomfortably and dropped his gaze.  "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

Ranma sat back on his heels, his expression slowly drifting back to shock.

Kasumi cleared her throat quietly.  "Ryoga dear, do you remember falling?"

"Falling?  I fell?"

Kasumi hmm'd worriedly.  Then she heard a knock at the front door and stood.

"I hope that's the doctor," Akane said.

"In that case…" Nabiki said, trailing after Kasumi for damage control.

Ryoga glanced at the two left in the room with him, then quickly looked at the floor.  Ranma kept his eyes trained on him, thinking hard.  

* * * * * * * * *

            "Well, it looks like you have a bit of a concussion," Dr. Tofu said.  "How did you say this happened?"

            "Um…I didn't," Ryoga said quietly.  "I don't really know."

            "You fell off the roof and hit the rocks by the pond," Ranma said.  

            "The roof?" Ryoga asked.

            Ranma decided to skip elaborating for the time being.  "Dr. Tofu, does he really have amnesia?"

            Dr. Tofu frowned thoughtfully.  "Well…he doesn't seem to remember you, or Akane, or anyone else here…"

            Ryoga looked at them in consternation.  "How could I possibly remember you?  I don't even know you!"

            "Ryoga," Dr. Tofu said patiently.  "When you woke up, you knew your name, right?"

            "Yes."

            "Do you remember where you live?"

            Ryoga frowned.  "Yes, I…I live in…"  He trailed off, his expression a mixture of confusion and astonishment.

            Akane and Ranma exchanged glances, but the doctor seemed unfazed.

            "Do you know where your parents are?"

            Ryoga's face paled.  "…my parents?"

            "When was the last time you were home?"

            Ryoga's expression became dismayed.  "I was…I c-can't…"

            "Alright," Dr. Tofu said calmingly.  "What's the last thing you remember?"

            Ryoga tried to concentrate.  "I don't…I've been traveling, lately…"

            "Do you remember where you've been?"

            Ryoga thought for a moment, then shook his head.  

            "Do you know where you are now?" Dr. Tofu asked.

            Ryoga glanced around him nervously, his eyes filling with uneasy fear.  "No," he said, his voice small.

            "Alright," the doctor said.  "It looks like you really do have amnesia.  But almost all people with amnesia regain their memories, eventually.  The chance that you won't get it back is practically nonexistent."

            "But how long will that take?" Ranma asked.

            "It depends," Dr. Tofu said.  "Not too long, hopefully.  But it could take as much as a couple months…or even longer.  But that's not likely."  He turned to Akane.  "Akane, will your father mind if Ryoga stays here?  He really shouldn't be out traveling with a head injury."

            Akane nodded.  "I'm sure he won't mind.  Especially since this is all Ranma's fault anyway."

            "Hey!" Ranma said indignantly.

            Ryoga glanced at him, a dark look settling over his features.  "Your fault?  _You_ made me fall?"

            Ranma scratched the back of his head nervously.  "Um…well, sorta.  But it was an accident!  We were…sparring!  You know, martial arts?  You remember that, right?"

            "Yes…" Ryoga said slowly.

            "Yeah, well, we were practicing.  The Old Freak kinda got in our way, and I knocked you off by accident," Ranma continued quickly.  

            "Old Freak?" Ryoga said dubiously.

            Akane arched her eyebrow suspiciously.  It looked like Ranma was up to something…

            "I'll go tell Kasumi to set up an extra bed," Akane told Dr. Tofu.  

            "Wait a minute!" Ryoga cried, his eyes widening.  "I can't just…I'm fine, I don't need to stay here!"

            "Well, we can't just let you go wandering around Japan," Dr. Tofu said.  "Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on you for a few days, just to make sure you don't have any complications."

            "But I…I don't even know any of you…" Ryoga protested vainly.  Dr. Tofu was already explaining to Kasumi in flustered stammers what to watch for and what to do if something happened, leaving Ryoga kneeling on the mat, looking unhappy, nervous, and very lost.

            Ranma noticed this and stepped forward, feeling sympathetic (and, though he didn't want to admit it, rather guilty).  He crouched down in front of the Lost Boy.

            "Hey, don't worry.  You know us, you just don't remember.  But since you're gonna be stayin' here for awhile, how 'bout I show you around?  I mean, you used to know, but I guess everything must look pretty strange now, huh.  Whaddaya say?"

            Ryoga glanced at him apprehensively.  Come to think of it, he did look kind of familiar.  But there was something nagging at the back of Ryoga's mind, something about him…  He decided to ignore it for the time being.  "Ok, I guess…"

            Akane saw Ryoga climbing to his feet beside Ranma and frowned.  

            "Come on, I'll show ya the yard first."

            Ryoga paused, peering at him curiously as he remembered his supposed accident.  "I'm supposed to know you," he said slowly, and Ranma nodded.  

"Were we…friends?"

Ranma blinked once, considering the opportunity that had just been put in front of him.  He hesitated for the briefest of moments to wonder if what he was about to do was such a good idea, but he quickly brushed off any lingering doubts.  He'd burn any bridges when he came to them.

"Sure," Ranma said, an easygoing smile sliding onto his face.  "The best..."


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer:  Ranma ½ is property of Rumiko Takahashi, Viz Communications, and the associated companies (in the other words, the characters ain't mine; I'm just borrowing them so don't try to sue.  If you do try to sue, you will be doing a great wrong because I don't claim the characters and no profit is being made from this; therefore, I would be forced to hunt you down and inflict bodily harm upon you as retribution.  Or more likely, I would send you an annoyed and exasperated email.  Either way…aah, just go read).

Part 2 I watched you fall 

_I think I pushed_

_Maybe I'm crazy_

_Maybe diminished_

_Maybe I blacked out_

_How do I play this?_

~R.E.M., "Diminished"

"Ranma," Akane whispered loudly.  "What do you think you're doing?"

The pigtailed boy turned to look at her innocently.  "Who, me?  What're you talkin' about?"

Akane was silent for a moment as Ryoga came back from the kitchen to gather more plates off the table.  He'd insisted on helping with the dishes to be polite, but Akane suspected that the Lost Boy was also subtly trying to stay away from the family as a group.  They seemed to make him nervous, which was understandable given they were practically strangers to him; and after watching the usual chaos that prevailed at mealtimes—Genma trying to steal his son's food, Ranma arguing with her, Nabiki complaining about someone's payments being overdue, her father throwing a fit of wailing over something or other—Akane could hardly blame him.  She waited until Ryoga had disappeared around the corner again before continuing.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Akane said.  "I heard what you told him, Ranma.  What are you up to?"

Ranma shrugged casually.  "Gee, Akane, you're always complainin' that I pick on him.  I'm just tryin' to be nice."

"Nice?" Akane said incredulously.  "Telling him that you're his best friend when you aren't is what you consider _nice?"_  

"Whaddaya mean?  Me and Ryoga are pals," Ranma said easily.  "Heck, you said so yourself plenty of times."

Akane's expression darkened further.  "You _know_ what I mean," she snapped.  "You two fight all the time, and you're always doing something to be mean to him!  But now you've got poor Ryoga thinking that…that…"

Ranma blinked at her.  "What are you so concerned over him for all of a sudden, Akane?" he asked.  "Afraid he'll quit fallin' all over himself to be nice to ya and everything if he ain't mad at me?  That would make you, lessee…jealous?  Funny, for a tomboy who hates boys to be upset over somethin' like that.  'Course, with you bein' so macho and uncute and all…"

"Rannnmaaa…" Akane growled menacingly.

"Uh-oh," Ranma said as his aggravated fiancée lifted the table over her head.

"DIE!" she shouted, preparing to slam the piece of furniture down on his head.  Ranma watched it fall towards him, shutting his eyes at the last second as he envisioned the bruises that would undoubtedly result.

He waited for the table to hit…but strangely, it didn't.

Ranma risked a quick peek, wondering if Akane had suddenly undergone some bizarre change of heart.

"Ryoga?"

The table was still poised only centimeters from Ranma's head, but Ryoga was holding tight to the edge of it with one hand as Akane blinked in shock.

"What are you _doing?" _Ryoga asked, staring wide-eyed at the surprised girl.  

"Ryoga?" Akane said, sounding equally perplexed as Ranma had.  "You…why did you…?"

"What, why did I stop you from hitting someone over the head with a table?" Ryoga asked, frowning slightly.  "Shouldn't that be obvious?  You could really hurt someone!  And besides, you might ruin it."

Ranma stared at the scene unfolding above him.  Ryoga…upset…with…Akane?  

_Now I've seen everything,_ he thought.  _I wonder if the world is about to end._  

Akane's expression slowly changed to one of anger.  "Hey!  What do you think you're doing?  It's _Ranma!_  I always hit him, he deserves it!"

Ryoga appeared taken aback.  "That doesn't seem very nice of you," he told her finally.

"You always hit him, too!  You _know_ he deserves it!" Akane cried.  

"I don't remember hitting him," Ryoga said.  "And why would he deserve it?"

_This can't be good,_ Ranma thought, seeing where this whole thing was probably headed.

As if on cue, Akane's face edged from looking angry to looking furious.  "Because!  He always says stupid things!  Don't you remember any of that?  You used to hit him _for_ me, Ryoga!  Because he insults me and says I'm a tomboy and that my cooking is bad and calls me uncute!"  

Ryoga looked at her speculatively.  "Well, if you run around hitting people with tables all the time, I can see why he'd call you _that_," he said.

Ranma felt his mouth drop open as he gaped at the two people in front of him.  Then he had to fight back a wild urge to laugh.  _Ryoga_ had just insulted _Akane!_  Ranma wasn't sure which was funnier, the look on Akane's face or the fact that Ryoga had absolutely no idea that he was digging himself into a very deep pit he'd probably want to get out of later. 

_Well, maybe that part ain't so funny…_ Ranma's conscience informed him.  

Akane stared at him for a long moment, not quite believing what was going on.  Finally she let out an inarticulate sound of annoyance and frustration, and shoved the table at Ryoga hard enough to knock him down.  She turned and ran towards the stairs, leaving the two young men to gaze after her.

Ryoga pushed the table off of his lap and back to its rightful place on the floor.  "Why'd she get so mad?" he asked, sounding confused.  "I wasn't trying to be mean to her, I just-"

"Yeah, yeah," Ranma interrupted.  "Akane…kinda overreacts sometimes.  She's got a temper, y'know?"

Ryoga looked at him uncertainly.  "How come she was saying all those things about me hitting you for her?  Why would I do that?"

"Eh heh," Ranma said, trying not too sound obvious.  "Well, uh…"  He felt himself starting to sweat.  _Stretch the truth, leave out the details, it ain't a lie,_ he told himself.  "Like I said, Akane overreacts.  I sorta…kid around with her sometimes a little, yeah.  I don't mean anything by it or nothin', but she gets mad sometimes, and when that happened you used to get a little annoyed, here and there, y'know?  Defendin' a girl's honor or whatever."

"Oh," Ryoga said, brightening.  "I get it.  But should I…I mean, I don't want her to think that I-"  

"Ah, don't worry 'bout it," Ranma said.  "She'll come around.  'Sides, if you went up and tried to say anything to her now, she'd prob'ly just clobber ya with somethin'."

Ryoga opened his mouth to reply, but was halted by a splintering crash as the wall opposite where they were standing fell inward.  The two boys leapt out of the way as a girl with long violet-blue hair carrying a large tin landed in the center of the room.

"Ni hao Ranma!" she cried, lunging at the pigtailed boy and throwing her arms around his neck as she smiled in the impossibly bright manner that it seemed only she was capable of.   

"Shampoo," Ranma muttered, moving to dislodge her.  Ryoga stared at them in surprise, but didn't have much time to reflect on the situation before he himself was grabbed and lifted off his feet by a longhaired young man wearing white robes and glasses.

"Oh, my darling Shampoo!  Don't go to that wretched Saotome!  I'm the one who loves you!"

"Hey!" Ryoga cried, trying to fight whoever this was off of him.  But his arms were pinned at his sides by the other's tight embrace, making it rather hard to do anything effective.  "What do you think you're doing?  Let me go, put me down!"

"Stupid Mousse," Shampoo commented from where she remained wrapped around Ranma.

"Mousse!  Let him go, stupid, that's Ryoga!"     

The bespectacled Amazon looked confused for a moment, then peered closely at the angry young man he was holding.  "Oh, it _is_ Ryoga Hibiki.  Where did Shampoo go?"

Ryoga slammed a fist into the other boy's face, sending him flying at the wall.  "Jerk!  Who are you, anyway?"

Mousse climbed back up to his feet.  "Huh?  What was that you said?"

Ranma managed to pry Shampoo off of him.  "Cut it out, already," he griped as she moved towards him again.  "Mousse, he don't remember you."

"What on Earth is going on down here?" Akane cried, running into the half-decimated room.  "Shampoo?"

Mousse frowned and tucked his hands in his sleeves.  "What do you mean, he doesn't remember me?"

"He's got amnesia, featherbrain," Ranma explained witheringly.  "He hit his head earlier."

Mousse pushed his glasses up on his forehead and stepped closer to the bandana'd boy.  "Ryoga…has amnesia?" he said wonderingly.

"Aiyah," Shampoo said, staring at the Lost Boy with wide eyes.  "He no remember anyone?"     

"Don't look like it," Ranma said.  "Ryoga, the guy who grabbed you is Mousse.  And this is Shampoo.  They're from China."

Ryoga raised an eyebrow.  "China?  Do you always grab onto people like that over there?"

Mousse's expression darkened.  "I can't see that well when my glasses aren't on right, Ok?" he snapped.  Then something in his head clicked.  If Ryoga didn't remember anyone, then he probably didn't remember anything that had happened around Nerima, either.  

And if that was the case…

Meanwhile, Shampoo was regarding the Lost Boy curiously as she thought.  "You no remember Shampoo or stupid Mousse at all?" she asked.

Ryoga glanced at her.  "No…sorry…"

Nearly identical satisfied smirks formed on both of the Amazons' faces as half a dozen unpleasant schemes went through their heads.

_If Ryoga doesn't remember, then maybe I can convince him to help me beat Ranma again!_ Mousse thought elatedly.  _And then, Shampoo will be mine!_

_If he no remember that he supposed to like Akane, maybe he…_  The pretty Amazon's smirk stretched into a grin.  _Then, Ranma marry Shampoo…_

"Aiyah, is shame," Shampoo said.  

"Yeah, if you don't remember…" Mousse added, placing a hand on Ryoga's shoulder.

"We have to make friends all over again, yes?" Shampoo finished in a sugarcoated voice, beaming at the Lost Boy as she stepped forward and took his hand.  

Ryoga's eyes narrowed as they began to pull him in two directions at once.  "Wait a minute…" he protested, digging his heels into the floor.

"Shampoo, what do you think you're doing?" Akane interjected, a scowl forming on her features as Ranma directed an equally heated look in Mousse's direction.  Sure, the Amazons both knew Ryoga, but he wasn't exactly what anyone would call bosom buddies with either of them, and Ranma and Akane didn't like the looks of this.

Shampoo's pretty features contorted for a brief moment at the unwanted interruption.  Realizing Plan A (dragging Ryoga bodily out the door with her and back to the Cat Café where she could get down to some serious planning) might not work, she darted to where she'd left her delivery box on the floor and pulled out a bowl of ramen that had originally been intended for Ranma.

"Shampoo make special ramen for Ryoga," she said cheerily, coming just short of shoving the bowl into the startled boy's face.  "For _friend _Ryoga," she added cajolingly.  

Ryoga blinked at the unexpected…gift.  "Oh…uh, that's awfully nice of you-"

Mousse shuffled his hands through his sleeves.  "Here!" he cried, grabbing onto the first thing that felt un-weapon-like and holding it out to the Lost Boy.  "Take this, as a token of our…friendship!"

Ryoga wondered briefly how this Mousse person had been keeping a bowl of goldfish in his clothing.  "Uh, th-thanks…I think…" he said hesitantly.

"Hey, you guys-" Akane started to say.

Shampoo grabbed a plate of buns from her tin.  "And these too!" she interrupted, forcing them towards him.  "Shampoo good friend, cook better food than violent-girl Akane."

"Hey!" Akane cried indignantly.

"Here!" Mousse said quickly, thrusting a green potted plant towards an increasingly uneasy Ryoga.

"Ryoga like dim-sum, yes?"

"Didn't you tell me once that you wanted a Ming vase?"

"Uh, heh…" Ryoga managed, backing away from the two with a nervous smile.  "That's Ok, r-really…"

Behind him, Akane's scowl deepened and Ranma clenched his fists.

"Suck-up!"

"Insult my cooking?!"

Ryoga blinked as Shampoo and Mousse's airborne figures vanished into the horizon.  "Uh…will they be alright?" he asked, though the look of relief on his face appeared to outweigh his concern.

"Fine," Ranma assured him.  "It happens more than you'd think."

"O-oh," Ryoga said, glancing down at the bowl of fish he still held in his hands.  "Um…they seemed…generous…"

"'Seemed' is right," Ranma muttered.  

"Hmph.  Says her cooking is better than mine.  Honestly, that Shampoo can be so rude." 

"C'mon Akane, don't be jealous.  Shampoo's cooking _is_ better than yours.  After all, Shampoo only makes hers poisonous when she wants to…" Ranma said.

"Raaanmaaaa," Akane growled, clenching her fists.  A moment later, Ranma was sailing through the newly-expanded door towards the koi pond, where he landed with a swear and a splash.

"What did you do _that_ for?" Ryoga demanded, startled by the display.  

Akane stared at him, then scowled.  "He…he made fun of my cooking!"

"He was only kidding!  You really _are _violent!" Ryoga told her.  He ran out into the yard to see if the other boy was alright.  "Ranma?" he said, placing his hands on a rock and leaning over the pond.  He backed up a second later to avoid being splashed with water as Ranma stood up.

Ryoga's eyes widened at the sight.  "What…what happened to you?!" he shrieked.

The petite redheaded girl squeezed water from her pigtail.  "The water's cold, stupi-" Ranma started to say.  "Oh, that's right," she amended.  She glared past Ryoga towards the aggravated fiancée.  "Jeez Akane, ya uncute tomboy, does it always hafta be the pond?"

Behind them, Akane was quaking with anger.  Having Ryoga stop her from clobbering Ranma when he deserved it, then having him practically call her uncute had been plenty to make her irritated—and now he was calling her violent while he went to make sure that jerk Ranma was Ok?  And Ranma, still shooting his mouth off at her even now!  This was too much…

Akane picked up the goldfish bowl that Ryoga had left behind.  "So, I'm _violent_, am I?" she said, drawing the two boys' attention to her once more.  Ranma had barely climbed out of the pond when Akane flung the bowl towards them, water, fish, and all.  "Ranma, you jerk!"

_Uh-oh,_ Ranma thought as the water-filled missile came towards Ryoga.  She leapt forward and shoved the Lost Boy to the ground, then caught the bowl.  The sudden halt loosed a wave of water into her face. 

"Uncute…" Ranma muttered to herself, flicking a renegade goldfish out of her bangs and back into the bowl.  

"I could've caught that," Ryoga said to her.  Then he noticed, once again, that Ranma was now a _she_ instead of a _he_.  "Uh…h-how did you…?"

Ranma looked down at him and sighed.  "Yeah, I know.  Uh, come with me, will you?  There're a couple of things that I need to explain…"

* * * * * * * * * *

"Jusenkyo, huh?"

"Yep.  Cursed Springs," Ranma affirmed.  "As you prob'ly figured, I got the Spring of Drowned Girl.  My dad fell in the Spring of Drowned Panda.  Shampoo fell in the Spring of Drowned C-ca-cat, and Mousse got the Spring of Drowned Duck."

"Wow," Ryoga said.  "That's terrible."

Ranma suddenly felt like he'd swallowed a brick.  "Uh…yeah.  Um, Ryoga, I ain't sure how to tell you this but you-"

"Me?" Ryoga said disbelievingly, his eyes going wide.  "B-but I've never been to China!"

Ranma scratched at the back of his head.  "Actually…you _have_ been to China."

Ryoga stared at him, his expression a mixture of astonishment and anxiety.  "I-I have…?  I didn't…I didn't fall into a Spring, though, d-did I?"

_Nah, you didn't fall.  I knocked you in,_ Ranma thought, feeling a little guilty at the Lost Boy's horrified expression.  

"I hate to tell you this…but you did end up with a curse," Ranma told him.  "Hey, don't worry, it ain't so bad," he said quickly as Ryoga's eyes filled with dismay.  "You can change back with hot water, just like I did."

Ryoga swallowed hard.  "Which Spring…?  Will I still know who…what I am if…?"

Ranma glanced around the bedroom, then went to shut the door.  "Well…here, I guess I might as well just…" he picked up the glass of cold water he'd brought with him.  "Just remember, you can change back with hot water," he explained, motioning to the kettle beside him.  Then he dumped the glass over the bandana'd boy's head.

Ryoga closed his eyes at the odd sensation of the change.  He opened them a moment later, but to his amazement, everything looked different.  Different as in…huge.  He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but instead of words, he emitted a high-pitched squeak.  Startled, Ryoga raised his hands to his throat…but he didn't have hands anymore, he had…hooves?  Hooves!  He couldn't even bend his arms right!  Maybe because his arms were more like legs now…

Ryoga backed up reflexively, as though he could pull himself out of whatever the hell had happened to him.  His body…it was completely out of proportion, it didn't move right!  He wasn't even human!  Kami, what _had_ happened to him?!  Through his shocked haze, he heard Ranma, speaking quickly in a low voice.  He looked towards the sound, and saw that Ranma was…how small had he gotten?  

Noting the growing fear on the small piglet's features, Ranma reached over to pick him up.  But when Ryoga saw that Ranma's hand was nearly as big as he was, his eyes went wide with panic, and his little black ears flew straight up in alarm.  Letting out a terrified squeal, the piglet tore away, running haphazardly around the room and bweeing at the top of his tiny lungs.

_Oh, damn,_ Ranma thought, realizing a little late that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.  He chased the piglet around the room in frenzied circles, unable to get a hold of the frightened animal.  After a few minutes of futile pursuit, Ranma began to worry.  Sooner or later, Akane would hear 'P-chan' and come running, undoubtedly wondering what new torture Ranma was exercising upon her pet.  Either that, or Ryoga was going to run himself into a wall or go flying out the window; and though Ranma knew the Lost Boy was pretty tough in either form, he didn't much like the idea of Ryoga worsening his head injury or escaping the confines of the room for the larger perimeters of the rest of the country.  

With this in mind, Ranma doubled his efforts, and finally managed grab hold of Ryoga's bandana.  Unfortunately, maintaining his hold wasn't exactly easy either.  P-chan fought him for all he was worth, kicking and struggling wildly while letting out sounds that Ranma figured would probably translate into human screams. 

Ranma held on as best he could and made a mad dash for the kettle.  Tightening his grip so Ryoga wouldn't be able to get free from his one-handed hold, he knelt down and poured the hot water over the piglet's head.

An instant later, Ranma found that instead of a struggling, kicking P-chan, he had his hands full of a struggling, kicking Ryoga.  Ranma quickly discovered that he had been correct in his piglet-sound-interpretation as well—Ryoga was screaming.

"Ryoga…Ryoga!  Stop!  Stop, it's alright!" Ranma cried, battling to hang on to the terrified boy.  He gave him a shake, hoping to bring him back to his senses.  "It's alright," he repeated.  

His voice seemed to cut through the panic, because Ryoga stopped his desperate movements and his cries sank to frightened gasps.  Ranma noted that the Lost Boy's face was a shade past white and he was trembling like a leaf.  Obviously, fear of being grabbed by a giant panda and ending up cooked had overridden the fright of Ryoga's curse itself when he'd first received it.  Despite the explanation, this still hadn't gone very well.  Ranma figured that on top of the injury, the memory loss, being stuck among people he didn't remember, seeing Ranma's curse without warning courtesy of Akane's swat into the pond, and being subjected to the commonplace chaos of the daily fights and destruction…well, considering the stress level, it was no wonder the kid had flipped. 

"Wh-what happened to me?" Ryoga stammered, his breath short.  "I…I…"

"It's Ok," Ranma told him.  He held up one of Ryoga's hands and waved it in front of him.  "See?  You're back to normal."  

Ryoga turned his head to look at him with wide, dark eyes.  "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, his voice full of trepidation.

Ranma felt something inside him twist with guilt.  He'd been the one to knock Ryoga in the Spring, he'd been the one to make him lose his memory, he'd been the one to scare the hell out of him now, not to mention the score of other things Ryoga held against him…yet the Lost Boy was looking at him not with the familiar anger Ranma was so used to seeing, but…

Trust.

Ryoga believed what Ranma had told him before.  He trusted him as a close friend, expected Ranma to tell him the truth, and didn't blame in the least for anything...

"It's not so bad," Ranma heard himself saying as he helped the other boy stand up.  "You learn to avoid cold water is all, and you can carry around hot water with you or something, just in case."

Ryoga blinked, then shivered.  "Oh…"

From downstairs, they could hear Kasumi calling them.

Ranma scuffed at the floor with his foot.  "You Ok?  I shoulda warned you better."

"I'm…I'm fine," Ryoga said, shuddering once. 

_Fine,_ Ranma thought sardonically.  He was beginning to wonder how long things would stay that way. 

* * * * * * * * * *

The final remains of the sunlight shone through in bright discernable rays, as though bravely trying to defy the incoming twilight that marked the end of day.

Within the living room of the Tendo home, Akane sat fuming silently to herself, ignoring the display presenting itself outside the open door.  Even though she'd been ready to blame Ranma for everything only a few hours before, even though she knew that Ryoga probably couldn't help anything, she still felt her anger smoldering.

Akane shot both of the boys a glare as they entered the living room, aiming an extra dose of indignance at Ranma.  She was used to the pigtailed boy swapping between being nice and being insulting while around her, but now Ryoga…he had _always_ been nice to her, and it annoyed her all the more that this wasn't the case any longer.  So what if he had amnesia, if he'd liked her before, there was no reason for him not to be seeing all those likeable qualities now…right?  Unless Ranma had something to do with it, which was likely the reason for it, although Akane wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to pull something like that off such a short time.

Either way, Akane concluded, both of the boys were being jerks.

With that, she let out an annoyed "Hmph," and disdainfully turned her head, refusing to look at the young men sitting across from her.  Ryoga frowned slightly in response, obviously not understanding what her problem was.

Ranma shook his head and bit back a grin.  He couldn't help thinking this was at least a little funny, even if just by the irony of it.  At this rate, Ryoga was never going to have a chance with Akane.  

Though…if Ryoga got his memory back, he'd be awfully…

Ranma refused to think about it.  If any of this should end up mattering, well, he'd deal with it when it happened.

_Sure, **you'll** deal with it,_ muttered a little voice in the back of his mind.  _But how will everyone else deal with it?  _

_How will Ryoga deal with it?_

Ranma shook his head to clear it, though a lingering sense of guilt refused to dissipate.  

He would deal with it…when it happened…


	3. Part 3

Disclaimer:  Ranma ½ is property of Rumiko Takahashi, as well as Viz, Kitty, Fuji, and Shogakukan.  I'm just borrowing the characters.  Please don't copy or reproduce any part of this without permission.

You can't hide your lyin' eyes 

And your smile is a thin disguise

I thought by now you'd realize

There ain't no way to hide your lyin' eyes…

~The Eagles, "Lyin' Eyes"

"Amnesia, huh?  You don't say."

Ranma nodded and rocked back on his seat, breathing in the pleasant scent of warm okonomiyaki.

"How did that happen?" Ukyo asked, flipping one of the pizzas with casual ease as she spoke to the two boys seated at the counter.

"He fell off the roof," Ranma said guilelessly.  Ukyo looked up at him sharply.  "It was an accident!" he added quickly.

"Oh," she said, though she had a feeling Ranma had something to do with the 'fall'.  She glanced at Ryoga, who she noticed looked a little unhappy at the subject.  "Poor Sugar.  You don't remember anything?"

Ryoga shook his head.  "Not really," he said, sounding despondent.  

"Well, I'm sure Ranma's been filling you in," Ukyo said cheerfully.  "Right, Ranma-honey?"

"Uh, heh.  Yeah.  Yeah, of course," came the slightly strained reply.  

Ukyo raised a speculative eyebrow, and observed that Ranma was suddenly finding the countertop avidly captivating.  She wondered on this for a brief moment, then turned her attention to Ryoga.

"So, I guess your staying with the Tendos until you're better," Ukyo said.  Ryoga still looked uncomfortable, so she gave him a warm smile—after all, they were sometimes-partners, and when he got his memory back it would be a point in her favor if he remembered her being nice to him through this most recent ordeal.

Ukyo's line of thought was interrupted by surprise as she found herself rewarded with a tentative smile of his own, and was even more surprised at how cute it made him look.  She'd only seen Ryoga smile at Akane, and the sidelong view had always made her miss the way it lit up his eyes…

_Hang on a sec, sister, _she reprimanded herself._  Your fiancé is sitting right there. And even if you didn't have a fiancé, Ryoga has that thing for Akane, so let's keep it all in focus here.  _

"You must be real happy to get to spend all that time with Akane," Ukyo added.  She blinked in confusion as Ryoga's smile faded, replaced by a slight scowl.  

"What…what's wrong?" Ukyo asked, utterly perplexed.

Ryoga shrugged.  "I don't think Akane likes me very much," he said.  "And to be honest…I don't know…she seems kind of violent and everything…I'm sorry, Ranma, I know she's your fiancée and all, and I'm sure she can be really nice, but she just…well, maybe she's been in a bad mood or something…"

Ukyo felt her spatula slip from her fingers and clatter to the floor.  "Wha…?"

Ranma glanced at her as she recovered, pulling an extra spatula from her bandolier.  "Little different without the blinders on, eh Ucchan?" he said wryly.

"Blinders?" Ryoga asked, curious and unsuspecting.

Ukyo flipped the okonomiyaki again before it could get too browned.  "I guess…you could put it…that way…" she managed.  She felt a sudden twinge of worry course through her.  If Ryoga didn't like Akane anymore, then what reason would he have to help her break Ranma and Akane's engagement?  She glanced at the bandana'd boy, her eyes wide.  What if she had to do it on her own from now on?  _How_ could she do it on her own?  And…why—how—on earth was Ryoga talking to Ranma so calmly, without even so much as a trace of his usual scowl, talking almost as though the two were-

Then it occurred to her.

Ranma hadn't told Ryoga a damn thing.

"Ranma…" Ukyo said lowly.  A dozen different thoughts ran through her head.  Why would Ranma do something like that?  Was he hoping that Ryoga would unknowingly create some irreparable rift between himself and Akane, so that the Lost Boy wouldn't be an obstacle in Ranma's engagement to the Tendo girl?  That didn't seem right, Ranma didn't give the impression that he saw Ryoga as a threat in that sense; and besides, he hardly seemed to care either way about any of his engagements.  Besides, Akane wasn't dense enough not to realize something like that going on…was she?  Was it because Ranma didn't want Ryoga to remember their perpetual fight?  That had never been something Ranma seemed unduly concerned about before either…but what else could it be?  And whatever it was, surely Ranma had to know that nearly everyone who had amnesia eventually gained their memory back…didn't he?  But if he knew that, then why wouldn't he have…

Ranma noticed the look Ukyo was giving him and began to sweat.   

"Eh, heh.  Well, we best be goin' now, Ukyo, thanks for the food and all," Ranma said.  He grabbed Ryoga and pulled him towards the door.

"Wait a minute!  Ranma!" Ukyo protested, now knowing beyond a doubt that something was up.  

"Bye, Ucchan," Ranma said quickly, dragging Ryoga through the exit with him.

"Um…i-it was nice meeting you!  Again…I guess," Ryoga managed before being pulled outside.

Ukyo was about to come around the counter to chase after Ranma and make him explain what was going on, but the sight of Ryoga giving her a farewell smile made her stop in her tracks, too surprised to do anything else.  A moment later, the two boys were out the door and out of sight, leaving Ukyo still standing behind her grill and wondering what on Earth had just happened.  

* * * * * * * * * * 

"So, how'd you meet Shampoo and Mousse?"

Ranma shrugged, glancing down at the other boy from his perch on one of the rocks surrounding the koi pond.  Ryoga was sitting on the ground, resting against one of the smaller, lower rocks, but being sure to stay a safe distance from the water.  

"Shampoo's another fiancée," Ranma explained.  For the last hour or so, he'd just been sitting out here talking to Ryoga.  At first he'd been worried that something he said would trigger the Lost Boy's memory, but the account of how he'd ended up engaged to Akane hadn't seemed to have an effect, and re-meeting Mousse and Shampoo and Ukyo hadn't, so…

Besides…Ryoga was _supposed_ to get his memory back, not like it would be bad thing…

But all the same, Ranma didn't want him to.

"_Another_ fiancée?" Ryoga said.  "How did that happen, if you're already engaged to Akane?"

"Huh," Ranma said.  He'd never had to explain his entire situation to someone before, and by doing it he was beginning to realize just how absolutely ridiculous his life must look.  "I met Shampoo while me and Pop were in China.  We ended up at her village, and there was a tournament goin' on.  I was in my cursed form, and she got kinda mad 'cause she was about to win the tournament, and me and Pop sorta…started eating her prize banquet…" 

Ryoga listened contentedly.  He'd spent much of the past days struggling to remember the answers to those questions of Dr. Tofu's that he hadn't been able to respond to.  Not only had the effort made his head hurt, it had frightened him because he found that no matter how hard he tried, he really _couldn't_ remember.  Listening to Ranma's stories was an interesting distraction from the uneasiness Ryoga was feeling, and he was glad for it.  

Meanwhile, Ranma watched Ryoga as he spoke.  Just as he had yesterday while trying to reassure him about the curse, Ranma found his concentration drifting to focus more on the Lost Boy than on the subject he was talking about.  Ryoga appeared so calm as he listened; occasionally casting his eyes down to look at reflection of the moon on the surface of the pond, and the movement of the brightly colored koi beneath.  Ranma was becoming increasingly perplexed by the activity, and wondered if it had something to do with the amnesia.

Both the pigtailed boy's thoughts and his words faltered momentarily as Ryoga glanced up at him.  The look in the Lost Boy's eyes made everything clear.  Ranma had never seen Ryoga take interest in things like the pond before because he'd usually been too guarded to do something like that while alone in his presence, whether they'd been fighting or not.  Even when Ryoga had slept over, he'd often woken up if Ranma got within a few feet of him.  But Ryoga didn't know any better now; he was relaxed, comfortable in Ranma's company, and his eyes shone with understanding over whatever ordeal Ranma was talking about.  Not the grudging, limited empathy that he was used to getting from the Lost Boy; but true sympathetic concern willingly given for someone thought to be a close friend.

A pang of guilt accompanied the realization.  Ryoga, unassuming and naïve as ever, listening to him with a sympathetic ear and not once finding fault.  Ryoga, having no clue that Ranma had stretched the truth about them and anything else pertaining to the Lost Boy.  And here, if he were even a tiny bit of what he'd claimed to be to Ryoga, he would be helping him regain his memory, not leading him down an entirely different path…

And just how thin could the truth be stretched before it snapped?

"That's awful.  Being chased all over China with her trying to kill you, then Mousse coming here and doing the same thing…all on top of your own curse and all those engagements," Ryoga said.  He tipped his head slightly to one side, his dark eyes shining with compassion.  

"You've really had it rough, haven't you?"

Ranma swallowed around his tangled tongue, finding his throat suddenly dry.  

"Uh…g-guess so…'course, you ain't exactly, uh, had a rose garden yourself lately, right?  L-life's funny, that way…"  He quickly turned his head to stare at the wall, the pond, anything but Ryoga's trusting, sympathetic eyes.

But even though he kept his gaze averted and prattled on about whatever, the image burned in his mind, where it conveniently combined with memories of other times…of other deceptions Ranma had exercised on Ryoga…the interrupted dates with Akane, the ploy to steal the Jusenkyo soap, the search for the Nannichuan in the girls' locker room…Ryoga's words, the hurt tone, echoed through his head.

_Why did you toy with my emotions like that?_

At that time, he'd had the rather lame excuse of finding the Spring.  After all, had he waited a few hours, the girls being inside the locker room wouldn't have been an issue.  Weak, yes, though it had been an excuse just the same.

But this time…

Ranma tried to push the thoughts from his head.  He'd think about it later…

* * * * * * * * *

On the other side of the stone wall surrounding the Tendos' yard, another set of ears listened to the moonlit storytelling with rapt attention.  

Shampoo tilted her feline head slightly, allowing her to get a better view of the boys as they went back inside the house.  Once they were gone, she climbed on top of the wall.  Now lacking the risk of being seen and alerting—not to mention terrifying—Ranma, Shampoo stretched out languidly to think for a few moments.

Cologne had taught her long ago to assemble the facts of a situation before trying to twist things into a serious plot.  Knowledge was power, and this last small reconnaissance mission had supplied Shampoo with enough information to form a decent scheme.  But it was better, she decided, to organize the facts while they were still fresh in her mind, and let the ideas flow from there.

Ryoga had amnesia.  That was known from days ago.  Ranma had been telling the Lost Boy things just now that Shampoo was sure Ryoga had known before, and he hadn't remembered her or Mousse, so it was probably safe to say that his memory loss was quite extensive.  And that was likely an advantage.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Ranma had already gotten Ryoga firmly embedded in his own camp, which made it unlikely that the Lost Boy would participate in anything that involved him in a way he perceived as potentially negative towards Ranma.  Using Ryoga against Akane was therefore also no longer an option, since Ranma (for some reason yet unknown to Shampoo) usually insisted on keeping the overly-violent and decidedly un-fiancée-like girl free from serious harm.  So Ryoga was probably not in a position that he could be easily manipulated from.

But Shampoo wasn't dissuaded in the least.  From what she'd observed while the boys had been at Ukyo's and from what she'd heard just now, it seemed that she wasn't quite out of advantages yet.

For the young Amazon had noticed that all through Ranma's recollections, he'd conveniently left out anything that involved Ryoga directly—how they'd met Ryoga, how Ryoga had gotten his curse, how Ryoga knew Akane and the others and what his relationship was with each of them… 

And Ryoga was acting far more agreeable, sympathetic, concerned…far more _friendly _than she'd ever seen him act openly towards Ranma before.

Which Ryoga certainly wouldn't be doing if he knew about what had gone on between them in the past.

Which meant Ranma was purposefully keeping Ryoga in the dark.

And chances were that he wanted the Lost Boy to stay that way.

Shampoo stood quickly and shook herself, causing the bells twined in her fur to chime.  Then she leapt to the ground and headed for the Café on light feline feet, a pretty plan already forming in her head.

* * * * * * * * *

In her room, Akane sat at her desk and stared out the window, a dark look planted firmly on her face as she thought over the events of the past several days.

To think…Ranma had gone and given Ryoga amnesia, then tricked him into thinking the two were friends!  How could he be such a jerk?  And why was he doing it?  

The entire concept annoyed Akane tremendously, but she was even angrier at the fact that Ryoga hadn't only forgotten her, but had apparently forgotten that he liked her as well.  He'd always been so nice to her before, so how had all this happened?  First the incident with the table, then he'd called her uncute and violent.  It was almost unbelievable.

But Akane still wasn't sure that it was entirely Ryoga's fault.  After all, Ranma had gotten to him first, so the chance still remained that he had something to do with Ryoga's…ambivalence towards her.  She refused to call it anything more than that for the moment.

But what could Ranma have done?  They hadn't spent much time together before Ryoga had started acting in such a way towards her.

Maybe Ranma hadn't done anything at all.  

So why didn't Ryoga like her?  She'd been nice to him until…

Until the table incident.  And there hadn't been all that much time between when Ryoga had woken up and Akane's fight with Ranma in the living room.

Of course, that must be it!  Ryoga didn't remember, and ever since he'd lost his memory, Ranma had been bringing out the worst in her.  Because of Ranma, Ryoga must think that she was mean and didn't like him.         

Well, two could play at Ranma's little game, Akane decided.  From now on, she'd just make it a point to be doubly nice to Ryoga.  And when he was back on her side, she could tell him all about what Ranma had been doing.  That would teach him to stop playing tricks at poor Ryoga's expense.  And she might just remind the Lost Boy about Shampoo's little killing-with-kindness routine while she was at it, which would surely throw a wrench in the Amazon girl's works for any future plans she might try to involve Ryoga in.  

Yes, Akane decided, this was definitely the way to go about handling the situation.  And if Ryoga got his memory back somewhere along the lines, so much the better.

It never crossed Akane's mind that by trying to beat Ranma at his own game, she'd be playing with Ryoga's feelings just the same.

* * * * * * * * * *

Just down the hall, another member of the Tendo family had their thoughts full of a certain Lost Boy and his lack of memories.

Nabiki typed a few more figures into her calculator.  If she charged Ranma on a daily basis, she might be able to get more money from him than she could if she charged him per week, depending on how long Ryoga stayed amnesic…

Ranma's actions since Ryoga's accident hadn't gone unnoticed by Nabiki.  Playing that nice with one of his sworn rivals had been suspicious, but the evidence she'd collected over the past few days—the way Ranma left out any details involving Ryoga while talking to him, how he seemed to enjoy the fact that Ryoga was pointedly avoiding Akane most of the time, the anger he'd shown towards Mousse and Shampoo for trying to win Ryoga over, the way he seemed to be trying to distract the Lost Boy rather than helping him regain his memory—it all added up.  Ranma obviously didn't want Ryoga to remember anything.  And why should he?  Ryoga had forgotten all his reasons to dislike him, had forgotten about his crush on Akane, had forgotten any ties he had with the rest of the Nerima regulars…hell, at this rate, Ranma had it made in the shade. 

But Nabiki had caught on.  And if Ranma wanted to keep Ryoga in the dark—at least on her part—he'd have to pay.  Otherwise, she might just accidentally let something slip out of her mouth that could trigger the Lost Boy's memory.  And, of course, she had a fair amount of photographic evidence to back her up if Ryoga wouldn't take her word for it.

Nabiki leaned back on her bed with a happy sigh.  She could be gleaning the yen off of Ranma for weeks, so long as Ryoga continued to forget.  Oh, the endless possibilities…

* * * * * * * * * *

It was mid-afternoon, and Ukyo was standing behind her grill, flipping okonomiyaki as she usually did.  As she cooked, her thoughts were occupied by Ranma, as was also usual.

But the thoughts she was having about him were unusual.

Ukyo had spent most of the day and the night before rolling over the possibilities as to why Ranma would want Ryoga to remain memory-less.  Given the amount of time she'd spent on it, she'd come up with several potential reasons.  

Unfortunately, she still couldn't figure out which, if any, was the real one.  

And although that in itself was perplexing and bothersome, what really troubled her was the morality behind the motive.  

Any way she looked at it, it seemed to return repeatedly to a common theme:  Ranma was using Ryoga for what appeared to be a purely selfish reason in a rather un-nice way.  The concept troubled Ukyo deeply—surely her Ranchan wouldn't really do such a thing, would he?

But…if he was, what would Ryoga do when he found out? 

Ukyo frowned thoughtfully.  Even if Ranma was doing something along those lines…did that mean she should take it upon herself to tell Ryoga before something serious happened?  That seemed like the right thing to do—after all, Ryoga was completely helpless in the matter…but Ranma was her fiancé, so her first loyalty should be to him.  And that meant she should let him play the course as he wanted to.

But if she did that, and Ranma _was_ trying to do something that would keep Ryoga and Akane apart for good, then that could seriously up the ante for Ukyo.  After all, it didn't seem likely that she'd successfully be able to push Akane off on anyone else—Kuno would never work, and Mousse was probably too obsessed with Shampoo to even think about changing his mind.  Plus, she rarely associated with either of them for personal reasons (bottom line, they both creeped her out a little, and although Ukyo wanted to be the one to marry Ranma, she liked Akane enough not to try to hitch her up with guys she herself found a bit unnerving).  Ryoga was definitely the best bet, and without him in the running, she'd have to rely on winning Ranma over completely on her own as opposed to by possible default.

And though Ukyo didn't want to admit any true caring for Ryoga on her part, she _did_ think it would be pretty hard on the guy if he lost any chances at Akane for good.  Sure, the Lost Boy could be a damnably frustrating, idiotic, stubborn, hopelessly naïve, annoying jackass at times…but he could also be friendly and helpful and sensitive and kind, and she had to give him credit for being so easily willing to risk his own safety for that of others (even if the 'other' was usually Akane).  She was a little bothered over the issue with his curse—using it to sleep in Akane's bed hardly seemed honorable, and it certainly wasn't healthy.  But whenever Ukyo thought about it, her mind would return to the night when Ryoga had slipped on the secret and she'd found out the truth about P-chan.  Her initial intention was to hit him and then go tell Akane, but the immediate look of dismay-become-despair in Ryoga's eyes had stopped her short.  He'd been so earnest when he explained to her how it had all gotten started and how much he regretted it.  Ukyo had encouraged him to tell Akane himself, but he was too afraid that she would hate him.  

But it was Ryoga's expression and tone that had convinced Ukyo of exactly how serious the situation was.  They'd reminded her of when they'd been at Togenkyo, right before he'd done his Shi-shi Hokodan—the sudden, hollow uncaring look in his eyes, the stark hopelessness in his voice—both had been so terrible that she'd wished to never experience them again.  But she had that night.

And then she had known.  Although Ukyo didn't really think Akane actually _would_ hate Ryoga for it, she didn't dare take the risk.  

Because if Akane _did_ hate him for it…

Ukyo didn't even want to think about it.

The idea of _that_ was intolerable to her.  Ryoga didn't deserve it.  It was a mistake, a bad mistake, and it was wrong of him; but Ukyo could understand why and how it had happened.  Besides that, Ranma knew about Ryoga's curse and he hadn't told Akane, either.

And deep down, Ukyo couldn't really condemn Ryoga for the act.  It was a move of desperation on his part, and she, like everyone else—Shampoo, Kodachi, Mousse, Akane, Ranma, all of them—had had her own share of them.  Ryoga's was no worse than any of theirs.

Ukyo sighed heavily, though the sound was lost within the sizzle of grill.  She hated the idea of interfering directly with Ranma's plan (whatever it was) because he might hold it against her later…but she hated the idea of Ryoga winding up with all of his hopes crushed, too.  And even if Ranma didn't intend to split up Ryoga and Akane permanently, it could very well happen by accident alone.  The Lost Boy's attitude in reference to the youngest Tendo girl had been proof enough of that possibility's existence.

A frown stamped itself across Ukyo's features.  She reminded herself that people with amnesia almost always regained their memories.  It had only been a few days since Ryoga had lost his, so maybe he would remember everything on his own if he had a little more time.  If he didn't, then she would take things upon herself.  That way, she might not have to interfere with Ranma.  And surely nothing could go _that_ wrong in a few days…


	4. Part 4

Disclaimer:  Ranma ½ is property of Rumiko Takahashi.  I'm just borrowing the characters for this story, which is meant for entertainment purposes only.  No profit is being made from it.  And blah blah blah.

I know we're headed somewhere

I can see how far we've come

But still I can't remember anything

Let's not do the wrong thing 

And I'll swear it might be fun

It's a long way down 

When all the knots we've tied have come undone…

~Gin Blossoms, "Anywhere you Go"

In the back room of the Cat Café, Shampoo watched raptly as Cologne poured a final ingredient into the mixture she was stirring.  The younger Amazon began to tap her foot impatiently with anticipation as her great-grandmother paused to lean over and inspect the contents of the bowl with a critical eye.

"That should do it," Cologne said, sounding satisfied.

Shampoo stepped forward to take a closer look at the product of the long and delicate procedure they had just completed for the sake of its creation.  Her brows knitted with doubt at the sight.  

"It look like flour," she stated.

"I assure you, that's the only similarity it shares—it's appearance," Cologne told her patiently. 

Shampoo nodded automatically, wondering at the unlikeliness of a fine white powder forming from the odd array of things they'd mixed together.  Looking at the ingredients alone, she would've guessed that the potion would turn out to be a gooey green-blue mess.

"How we know this work for sure?" Shampoo asked skeptically.  Her grandmother had told her about a memory-restoring powder long ago, but had never explained the details.

"You're looking at the product of two thousand years of Amazon history," Cologne said.  "The ancient cure for amnesia.  Never fails."

Shampoo eyed the ingredients again.  The mixture _did_ contain a lot of the same ones that the memory-restoring shampoo she had did, but…  She pushed the thoughts from her mind.  There were more important things to think about now.

Cologne carefully poured the powder into a small glass vial, then capped it tightly.  "Alright.  Now, do you have the plan straight?"

The violet-haired girl nodded vigorously.  "Shampoo go to Airen and tell him that Shampoo have way to make Directionless Boy remember everything.  Then Shampoo say that if he no want that happen, he break off engagement with Akane and agree to date Shampoo."

"Right," Cologne affirmed with a dry smile.  "And from what you've told me, I think it's safe to say that Son-in-Law will do it…well, perhaps not, but he should at least be willing to make some sort of compromise."

"And that bring Shampoo that much closer to marrying Ranma," the younger Amazon added cheerfully.  She was about to say something else, but a slight sound from the next room interrupted her attention.  "Hmm?" she uttered wonderingly, glancing over her shoulder.

Cologne's eyes narrowed, then she pounced forward on her staff to peer around the corner.  Nothing.  A mouse, maybe, she'd have to tell Mousse to set a trap when he got back…

"Great-grandmother?"

"Never mind, child," the old matriarch said as she turned back around.  She hopped back over to the table and drew another vial from her robe, seemingly identical to the one already sitting there.  

"This is what you'll take with you when you go to see Son-in-Law," Cologne continued.  "If something goes wrong, this one will have no effect on Ryoga's memory.  I'm almost certain that Ranma will try to take it from you rather than agreeing to the terms right-out.  Wouldn't want him to get his hands on the real thing, would we?"  

Shampoo shook her head, and Cologne handed her the vial.  "Be sure not to lose it," the old woman told her.  "I will hide this one in case it is needed later."

"For if Ranma no date Shampoo?"

"Yes," Cologne said.  "If that's the case, then Son-in-Law will at least think twice about going against us in the future."

"But what if Ranma say he _want_ for Directionless Boy to remember?"

"If that's the case, we simply change the terms," Cologne explained.  "If he wants Ryoga to stay memory-less, we'll stick with the original plan and threaten to use the restorer.  If he wants Ryoga to remember, we bribe him with it instead.  Though from what you've told me, I doubt it will come to that."

The violet-haired girl smiled.  "Aiyah, is good."  Then she frowned.

"Great-grandmother, what we do if Ranma no want Directionless Boy to remember, and he no get memory back on own?"

"Chances are that Ryoga will regain his memory on his own in time," Cologne answered.  "Which is why we must take advantage of the situation quickly."

"But what if that no happen?"

Cologne sighed.  Much as she wanted the Amazon laws to be followed, morals would have to come in at some point.  "I suppose we'd have to try the cure, eventually," she said.  "Heaven knows, that boy has enough problems with a Jusenkyo curse and that sense of direction of his.  Wouldn't do any good to let him go wandering around without any recollection of his past forever.  But there's no sense in worrying about that unless we need to.  And that won't be until _after_ we fix things with Son-in-Law."

Shampoo smiled again.  "Is good plan," she said, returning to her usual bubbliness.  How lucky it was that they'd been able to get something out of the situation after all, even after that violent tomboy Akane had messed up her original plan while it was still in the making.

_Well, no matter about that now_, Shampoo thought as she darted off to her room.  She had many things to think about before tomorrow…

* * * * * * * * * *

Atop the roof of the Cat Café, a longhaired young man wearing white robes and glasses sat, musing as the sun began its descent beneath the western horizon, tinting the sky with pink and gold.

Yet another plan that would result in his precious Shampoo being taken from him was about to be put into action.  Another plan that would allow Ranma Saotome to have her in his evil clutches…

Mousse supposed that maybe he was being overdramatic there.  After all, Shampoo was acting on her own free will; and though Mousse was no big fan of Ranma's, even he had to admit that realistically, the Saotome heir hardly seemed to qualify for a ranking in the 'evil' category.  

But that was all beside the point.  The point was, Shampoo was going to use that powder stuff she and Cologne had concocted to get close to Ranma.  And that was the last place Mousse wanted Shampoo to be.

Luckily, he'd gotten back from his deliveries earlier than was expected, which had given him opportunity to see and hear things which he was quite sure he hadn't been intended to see or hear.  It was a shame that he'd bumped into the chair—curse his lousy vision—while sneaking over for a closer look at what was happening in the back room, but at least he'd gotten the important parts.  And at least he'd managed to get out of sight before Cologne had caught him eavesdropping.

Now Mousse knew what the powder looked like, and what Shampoo was going to do with it.  

Or at least, Mousse was pretty sure he knew.  He _had_ missed out on the last few minutes of conversation between his beloved Shampoo and the Old Ghoul as he fled for a hiding place…but never mind.  He'd learned enough about the plan for tomorrow.

Plenty to foil it, anyway.  

Now, Mousse just had to wait…

* * * * * * * * * *

_Crack.  _

Ranma flicked a bead of sweat from his bangs as he watched the wooden post he'd been using as a target fly across the yard.  They seemed to break so easily these days…

The pigtailed boy glanced up at the sky for a moment, noting that it was nearing sunset.  He picked up his towel from where he'd left it in the grass and went to retrieve the broken post.  He'd have to pull the rest of it out of the ground and get a new one from the shed later he reflected, leaning the remains of this last one against the side of the building.  

Ranma walked over to the dojo door, which was slightly ajar.  He could hear Akane pounding away at something inside, a signal that Ryoga had probably vacated the area.  He frowned slightly as he wandered around the side of the building, wondering where the other boy had gone.  

If he hadn't been specifically looking, Ranma probably would've missed him at first glance.  The Lost Boy was sitting beside the wooden bird feeder, nearly underneath it, his knees tucked up against his chest.  The sight made Ranma immediately nervous.  "Ryoga?" he said, his expression shifting to one of concern as he went to kneel in front of him.  "You alright?  What's wrong?"

Ryoga glanced up at him, his brown-gray eyes reflecting goldenly from the low sun as its light pooled in the threatening tears within them.  "I…I don't understand it…" he said.

Ranma took in a sharp breath, his insides going suddenly cold.  _He knows, _his thoughts wailed in dismay.  _I waited too long…_

"You…you remember?" Ranma asked finally, his voice sinking to just above a whisper.  This was it…

But Ryoga shook his head.  "That's just it," he said.  "I don't…but I don't know why."  His shoulders trembled slightly, and he glanced away, searching for words.  "How can I not remember?"

Ranma sat back slightly, any relief he might've felt immediately washed away by guilt.  "Ryoga…you got hurt.  It—it ain't you, it's just the amnesia…"

The Lost Boy shook his head again.  "It doesn't matter," he said.  "How can I not remember anything?"

Ranma tipped his head.  "But you do.  You remembered your name, and where you live—"

"No," Ryoga protested.  "I _don't_.  I…it's like I have a few pieces of things, but they don't mean anything.  I know how to fight, but I don't know how I learned it.  I know my name, but I don't know where it came from.  I know I lived someplace, but I don't know what it looks like, or where it is.  I know I have parents, but…it's like there's just two people, they…they don't have any faces..."  He looked away, his voice beginning to break.  "I don't know who they are," he said miserably.  "I don't even know who I really am…"

Ranma gazed at him, unsure of what to say.  He'd been so preoccupied with the problem of keeping the recent past a secret that he hadn't even considered the other parts of Ryoga's life up to this point.  Ryoga had voiced hardly any questions concerning himself the past few days, and Ranma hadn't offered much.  Only now did it occur to him that he'd been letting Ryoga live on whatever assumptions the Lost Boy was coming up with—he didn't know that his 'home' was technically here and that his house was actually just on the other side of town, or that his parents probably weren't there but were likely as lost as he usually was.  And Ranma had let himself believe that there was nothing wrong with the entire situation, instead of realizing that on some level, whether he was showing it or not, Ryoga was frightened and confused…and lost.

The blue-eyed boy swallowed hard.  "Ryoga, look.  You'll remember.  You heard what the doctor said, right?"  The other boy lifted his head to look at him, and Ranma tried to smile, but failed completely.  "You'll get your memory back," he continued.  "It just…it'll take some time, is all.  Yeah, you just need time."

Ryoga turned away and wiped at his eyes.  "You really think so?"

"Y-yeah," Ranma said.  "You'll get it back.  I'll…I'll help you remember…"

Ryoga turned back to him.  "You will?" 

Ranma nodded, trying to will away the constricted feeling in his throat as Ryoga looked at him with hopeful eyes.  "Sure I will," he managed.  

_Just like I've been doing all along…_

Ranma struggled to force the thought away.  He'd figure something out later…

* * * * * * * * * *

Shielded by the soft, velvet darkness of deep night, a lone figure stole into the kitchen of the Cat Café.  

Moving almost silently, Mousse began his search.  The vial Cologne had put the memory powder in had been small, made out of glass.  

And Mousse had seen dozens of similar vials dozens of times before.  

The young Amazon made his way stealthily over to the large spice rack mounted in the corner.  He pulled a small penlight from one of his sleeves and shone it down on the multitude of little jars, filled with things as common as black pepper and tempura to far more exotic items.  Mousse spotted one containing something pale near the middle.  

Perfect.

This one looked identical to the one Cologne had given Shampoo.  It was even filled with something fine and white.  Mousse almost smiled.  He wouldn't have to waste time refilling it with flour, not when this was such an ideal match.

The longhaired young man carefully memorized the vial's location amidst the others, then removed it, making it vanish into his sleeve.  

The next part would be a bit trickier.

Still moving quietly, Mousse stole back up the stairs.  Once at the top, he paused, listening.

Not a sound, other than the soft breaths his beautiful love was emitting as she slept.

Then Mousse noticed that the door to Shampoo's bedroom was cracked open.  He could hardly believe his luck this night.  No fumbling with noisy doorknobs…

Not wanting to jinx himself, Mousse waited for several moments, making sure that nothing was amiss and calming himself before entering.  He couldn't let himself be distracted by Shampoo, and he had to be absolutely silent.  If he woke her by being clumsy, all his trouble would be for naught.

And there'd be hell to pay.

He placed a careful hand on the door, then pushed gently.  It opened silently, and he congratulated himself on thinking to oil the hinges earlier.  As soon as he had the space he needed, Mousse slipped inside.

He gave himself a moment to let his eyes adjust to the different lighting, holding his breath as his gaze flitted to the sleeping girl in the bed.  She was so beautiful…

All the more reason to do this right and hinder the chances of her ending up with that wretched Saotome.  Mousse forced himself to look away, settling his eyes on the nightstand instead.  Right there, in plain sight, was what he sought.  

Fighting his nervousness, Mousse made his way over to the nightstand, trying to keep his steps light and his pace slow.  It wouldn't do at all to have something go wrong now.  

Mousse paused, trying to still his shaking hand.  What if something _did_ go wrong?  What if somehow, Shampoo or the Old Mummy would know what had happened, that the real vial had been replaced by a fake?  What if-

_Stop it_, Mousse chided himself.  _Do this, or risk losing Shampoo to Saotome yet again.  _

The thought hardened his resolve.  Without further hesitation, the Amazon boy reached out and took the vial.  With his other hand, he placed the purloined spice in its place.

It looked as though nothing had been touched.  

Of course, his vision was so damn lousy, it could very well look different to Shampoo once morning rolled around…

Mousse gritted his teeth and turned back to the door.  He was nearly finished; this was no time to back out.

Somehow, he managed to make his way back out into the hall, being sure to close Shampoo's door just as he'd found it.  Still forcing himself to be cautious, Mousse made it back down to the kitchen and over to the rack.  Once there, he took out the vial he'd taken from Shampoo's bedroom and placed it carefully in the empty space where spice had been.

Mousse left the kitchen, excitement welling in him.  He'd done it!  Foiled the Old Crone's plans!  He rejoiced silently as he made his way to his own room.

It had been almost too easy, Mousse reflected as he drifted off to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

The moon was reaching its zenith in the night sky, casting its silver-white glow over the rooftops as it rose.  Ranma watched it through the window as he stared out, his mind wandering restlessly.

He couldn't keep this up forever.  Akane was already angry, Ukyo was suspicious, and who knew what the Amazons were up to.  Something was bound to happen sooner or later, and Ranma had been pushing the later part all along.

And…Ryoga deserved to have his memory back.  Ranma had no right to try and keep it from him just because it made his own life easier.  He often longed to have done things differently with many of the people in his life; to wipe the slate clean and start all over—Ryoga included.  

The Lost Boy was one he'd botched from the very start.  Ranma had succeeded in getting his attention by taking the bread back when they'd been in school together, but he hadn't counted on it to arouse the immediate distrust and anger in the already-serious Ryoga.  Beset upon by most of their classmates and frequently teased as he was, the reaction didn't seem so surprising in retrospect, especially given that the social skills of both boys had been rudimentary as a result of their unorthodox lifestyles.  

Ranma had really meant it as a game, but Ryoga hadn't understood it that way.  He'd only seen yet another person teasing him, despite the fact that Ranma hadn't intended it to be malicious.  Of course, that hadn't deterred the pigtailed boy in the least—on the contrary, it had made him even more persistent.  Too intrigued by another martial-artist to simply forget about it, he'd walked to and from school with him practically every day once he found out that it was the only sure way for Ryoga to make it to either location.  He'd hung around him when the other boys bored him, which happened often, and Ryoga gave him plenty of opportunity to talk since the Lost Boy barely said anything himself.  When he did, it was usually a minor outburst of anger over the bread or whatever other infractions Ryoga had identified Ranma as responsible for—which Ranma had repeatedly ignored, knowing that once Ryoga had finished a particular tirade, he would calm down.  After weeks and weeks of the same, Ryoga had finally begun to express a sort of tenuous tolerance, if not outright warmth, towards the other boy.  Ranma had been certain that the arranged duel would let Ryoga settle any lingering differences.

Unfortunately, the arranged fight had never taken place.  

Ryoga had gotten lost, and Ranma's father had suddenly decided they were going to China.

He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.  

Then, years later, Ryoga had reappeared, his anger grown so much that Ranma hadn't even been able to recognize him as the first person he'd considered a friend since Ukyo.  And sometimes, things hardly seemed to have improved much from there.  

But now, Ranma had finally gotten his chance.  The slate was nonexistent.

And he was completely screwing it up again.  How was he going to explain everything when Ryoga got his memory back?  Ranma knew he should do it now, and stop putting off the inevitable before things got really tangled up, but he couldn't help being reluctant to give up a non-angry-with-him Ryoga.  These days, it seemed that even the people who were supposed to like him got pissed on a regular basis, even Shampoo.  Now, there was someone who wasn't constantly criticizing him or expecting something half-impossible from him.  He knew it was selfish, but how could he just let that go?

And it wasn't only that.  Aside from the fear and anxiety produced by the amnesia, the Lost Boy had been far less melancholy and angry than Ranma had seen him in a long time.  It made sense, he supposed—Ryoga didn't know of the hard life he'd experienced, didn't know about the fights and schemes he'd been involved in, the teasing and ridicule he'd been through, the pain of having an absentee family and generally homeless existence, the things that he'd had to endure because of his curse and sense of direction, the crush on Akane that seemed to hurt him more than anything else…all of it had disappeared for him.  And so long as Ryoga was distracted from the fact that he had amnesia…

He seemed almost…happy…

But if Ranma told him the truth about it all…he'd be taking that away from him, too.

Yet at the same time, each moment that Ryoga _wasn't _distracted from the amnesia, he was upset; wondering about everything he'd forgotten.  The previous afternoon had showed that clearly enough.  Ranma suspected that Ryoga was imagining his life had been something worth remembering—probably a happy childhood, a safe home, a loving family and friends…the sort of things people wanted to believe their lives included.  Unfortunately, Ranma knew that Ryoga's life fell short on almost all of those things.  After all, that Shi-shi Hokodan sure as hell wasn't the product of a rose garden.

Ranma heaved a sigh and turned away from the window.  Stuck between a rock and hard place again.  And as usual, he couldn't think of a good way to get out of it without breaking everything around him to pieces.  But maybe…maybe he could afford to put it off at least a little longer.  Ryoga hadn't been _that_ upset, and he could ward off the other for a few more days…

He started to head down the hall, figuring that with his luck Akane would run into him and accuse him of something ridiculous.  He'd only gone a few steps before a sound made him stop short.  He tipped his head, listening.

It sounded like someone was…crying?

Ranma strained to hear.  The acoustics in the hall weren't very good, and it was difficult to pinpoint where it was coming from.  He went to Akane's door, expecting it to be her, but once there, he discovered only silence coming from the other side.  

That was strange.  Ranma padded back down the hall, a slight frown across his features.  Who else could it be…?

Then, it was gone.

Ranma frowned, turning this way and that to see if it would start again, but the house had returned to its former velvety silence. 

_That's weird, _he thought.  All of the girls' doors were shut tight, which meant that except for fairly loud sounds, he shouldn't be able to hear any noise from within.  Besides that, he was closest to the bedroom he shared with his father; who for once, Ranma noticed as he stepped around him and went to lie down, wasn't snoring raucously. 

Then he remembered he'd left the door partially open when he'd gone out to the hall.  

Ranma blinked and turned to the mat Kasumi had set up next to his own.  "Ryoga?" he whispered.  But the other boy lay facing away from him, and remained still.


	5. Part 5

Disclaimer:  Ranma ½ belongs to Rumiko Takahashi, secondly to Viz Communications, Fuji, Kitty, and Shogakukan.  I'm just borrowing the characters for this fic, which is certainly not making any sort of profit.

You came in with the breeze 

On Sunday morning

You sure have changed since yesterday

Without any warning

I thought I knew you

I thought I knew you

I thought I knew you well…so well…

~No Doubt, "Sunday Morning"

The following afternoon was bright and sunny, with a deep blue sky dotted with the occasional puffy white cloud.  A nearly perfect day; with the birds singing cheerfully as a pleasant breeze ruffled through the tree leaves, making them rustle in harmony.  

Ranma sat cross-legged on one of the rocks lining the koi pond in the backyard as the later hours began to set in, a petulant scowl settled firmly on his features.

"Stupid Nabiki," he muttered under his breath, acutely aware of how thin his wallet felt in his pocket.  The middle Tendo sister had insisted upon a larger sum than Ranma felt was fair, but he wasn't really in much of a position to argue.  Though by paying her off, he could at least rest assured that there were no other threats to Ryoga's amnesia except for natural recovery.  Akane had rendered herself pretty much unable—after being exposed to her temper those few times, the Lost Boy had made it a point to avoid being alone with her.  Shampoo or Mousse might try something, but Ranma figured they would both find Ryoga's lack of memory more advantageous than not.  And besides that, Ranma could easily avoid any of them having any effect whatsoever—all he had to do was keep them away.  

_Or maybe you should just stop this whole thing and tell him the truth before something goes completely wrong, _suggested a little voice in the back of Ranma's head.

The pigtailed boy's scowl deepened.  He was beginning to worry over how long he could keep this up.  Every moment he prolonged this was a growing risk in and of itself, Ryoga could get his memory back any time now…

But if Ranma told everything now, things would go back to normal and Ryoga would hate him again, more than he had before even, maybe.  If only he could find some way to do it without ruining it all, maybe if he explained to Ryoga first why he hadn't told him the complete truth…

But he needed some time to figure out how.  

One more day, Ranma decided.  Just one more day.  He'd figure something out by then, and then he'd deal with this.  Though in the meantime, he'd try to keep the others away, just in case.

Which should really be no problem at all, since the Lost Boy had been sticking pretty close to him lately anyway.  After all, he thought that…

Then Ranma noticed something rather important.

Ryoga wasn't out here with him now.

With a start, Ranma quickly glanced around the yard.  The bandana'd boy had been over by the porch just a moment ago, hadn't he?  

_Don't tell me the idiot managed to wander off, _Ranma thought as he jumped off his rock.  _I was just startin' to think he'd forgotten his crazy sense of direction with everything else- _

Ranma's thoughts were cut off by the sound of someone talking coming from around the corner of the house.  And it sounded like Akane…

Ranma started across the yard.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Hello, Ryoga," piped a bright, feminine voice.

Ryoga turned around warily to look up at the youngest Tendo daughter from his spot on the porch.  "Uh, hi, Akane," he replied nervously.  He still wasn't quite sure what to make of the girl.  She'd seemed so nice at first, but then she'd gotten so short-tempered and violent.  All in all, she'd come across as someone Ryoga thought he should probably avoid until he had her figured out better.

Akane smiled at him cheerfully.  "Would you come with me?  I want to talk to you about something."

Ryoga swallowed hard.  "O-oh," he replied, casting an anxious glance over his shoulder.  Ranma was sitting by the pond, seemingly oblivious as to what was going on.  No help there.  He turned back to Akane.  At least she looked like she was in a good mood this time.  

"Ok," he said, a little reluctantly.  He followed her as she led him around the corner of the house.  A place that seemed as though it would be safely out of anyone's earshot, Ryoga noticed as he watched a small bird take flight from the wooden feeder standing there.  He put a hand behind his head to tug at the knot on his bandana.  "So, uh, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, actually, I wanted to apologize," Akane told him.

Ryoga blinked.  "Apologize?"

Akane nodded.  "I was thinking, and I realized that I haven't been very friendly towards you lately."  She tipped her head to one side.  "I know you still don't remember, but we were friends too, Ryoga."

The Lost Boy's expression was sliding rapidly towards confusion.  "R-really?  I mean, Ranma told me that-"

"Ranma's not always…completely honest," Akane interrupted him.  "Don't get me wrong," she continued quickly.  "You've, uh, been…friends with him for a long time and all, but he _does _have this tendency to stretch the truth sometimes."

Ryoga frowned.  "Are you saying he's a liar?"

"No, no," Akane said, becoming somewhat flustered.  "He's usually honest…well, sort of, anyway.  Not that he hasn't lied before, because he has.  But it's not like he lies all the time.  It's just that he's kind of…self-serving."

"Self-serving?" Ryoga echoed.  He looked at her uncertainly.  "What exactly do you mean?"

Akane's expression became serious.  "Well…if Ranma can find a way to turn a situation to his advantage, he does it.  But sometimes he forgets that there are other people involved, you know?"

Ryoga glanced at the ground, feeling unsettled.  He didn't like what he was hearing much, but Akane didn't have any reason to lie to him, did she?  But then again, if what she said was true, what reason would Ranma have to lie to him?  

"Turn a situation to his advantage.  That's not really farfetched though, is it?" Ryoga asked carefully.  "I mean, he _is_ a martial artist and all.  And he doesn't exactly have it easy…"

"Huh?" Akane said, her voice high with surprise.  She still wasn't used to hearing Ryoga defend him.

The bandana'd boy shrugged.  "You know…I mean, no offense or anything, but it's hard being engaged at our age, right?"

Akane blinked.  "Um, sure, I guess, but I don't think you're getting my point.  He doesn't always have to do things the way he does them, especially when people might get hurt."

"But there's all those other girls he's supposed to marry, too," Ryoga said.  "Doesn't that make it kind of hard for someone _not_ to end up hurt?  Maybe he doesn't feel like he really has a choice.  And he's trying to deal with his curse at the same time."

_No choice?_  Akane thought to herself.  _If you only knew…_  She looked at the Lost Boy again, musing.  Poor Ryoga, he didn't have a clue.

"But Ryoga, Ranma manages to even use his curse to his advantage sometimes," she explained.  "He can be really shameless about it."

"Huh.  Even so, you can hardly blame him there," Ryoga said.  "It's not like having a curse that turns you into a girl every time you get wet can be easy or anything.  I know it sure isn't easy having one that turns you into a little pig."

Akane started to reply, but stopped suddenly, her eyes growing wide.  "Wh-what did you say?"

Ryoga glanced at her innocently.  "Oh…you didn't know about that?"

"Know about what?" Akane said slowly.

"The curse.  I guess I was in China…"

* * * * * * * * * *

Ukyo Kuonji slid the restaurant door shut behind her with a decisive snap.  

Another night spent tossing and turning over the situation with Ryoga's amnesia.  Another night debating whether to let Ranma have his way or do what seemed right.  Another night spent practically without sleep.

At least she'd come to a decision.

Whatever was going on, Ukyo didn't like it.  She didn't like it that Ranma had been lying.  She didn't like it that poor Ryoga was being left in the dark while no one did anything about it.  

And she didn't like losing her damn sleep.

So unless Ranma had some really good explanations up his sleeve, she was going to set things straight with Ryoga.  

Right now.

* * * * * * * * * *

Shampoo ran along the top of the chain link fence lining the sidewalk, an excited smile painted on her face.  In her hand, she clutched the vial that would, one way or another, get her a date with Ranma.  

Or more.  That would be fine, too.

Shampoo increased her pace.  She could hardly wait…

* * * * * * * * * *

From the roof of the Cat Café, Mousse watched Shampoo take off down the street, headed towards the Tendo Dojo.  

Even though he didn't have to worry about Saotome anymore, he still wanted to see what would happen.  Besides, it would look strange if he didn't tag along after her.  He leapt down from the roof, nearly fell when his foot landed on an abandoned soda can he hadn't seen, then started to follow.

"Hold it!" shouted a grating voice from behind him.  Before he could even turn around, he was smacked over the head with something hard.

From his new seat on the ground, Mousse glared up at Cologne, rubbing the bump made by her staff.

"What'd you do that for, you Old Ghoul?"

Cologne shot him a withering look from her perch.  "Don't get mouthy with me, Mr. Part-time.  And don't even think about chasing after Shampoo when she's going to see Son-in-Law."

Mousse scowled at her.  "What's it to you?"

"You are not going to interfere," Cologne said firmly.  

Mousse stood up with as much dignity as he could muster.  "Well," he said smugly.  "It's too late."

The old Amazon frowned at him.  "And just what do you mean by that?"

Mousse tucked his hands in the sleeves of his robe.  "Hmm.  It will be awfully hard to convince Ranma of anything, considering the powder Shampoo took is useless."

Cologne's eyes narrowed.  "Mousse, what have you been up to?"

"I switched the vial with one I found in the kitchen.  So the one Shampoo has is full of harmless spice.  Guess that ruins your little plan, doesn't it?"

"You fool!" Cologne shouted.  "Do you realize what you've done?  The vial Shampoo had was full of flour, nothing more!  By switching the vials, you've made her take the potion instead!"

Mousse felt himself go slack.  "Wh-what?"

"You bumbling idiot," Cologne groaned.  "If any of that powder gets on Ryoga, he'll regain his memory!  And if Son-in-Law has not yet…oooh, go after her, you fool!  There's more than a date at stake here!"

"Uh…right!" Mousse managed, breaking into a run as Cologne followed after on her staff.  If Ryoga regained his memory, and Ranma got mad at Shampoo for it, and Shampoo knew that he'd switched the vials …

Mousse ran faster.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ranma bounded over to where Ryoga and Akane were standing, hoping that disaster hadn't struck yet.  The moment he'd overheard the word "curse", he'd known there was about to be trouble.  Ranma prepared himself to…interrupt, cover Akane's ears, clap his hand over Ryoga's mouth, something, anything…

Even from a couple yards away, he felt the anger in Akane's aura skyrocket.

Too late.

Ranma winced at the resounding slap.  Chances were his sympathy would be turning to empathy right quick; he figured Akane had one saved for him.

"What was that for?" Ryoga asked bewilderedly.  The blow had knocked him to the ground.  He stared up at Akane, his eyes somehow filled with confusion, anger, and hurt all at the same time.

"You…" she sputtered, her fists clenching reflexively as she stepped forward.

"Akane, don't," Ranma warned, leaping between her and the boy on the ground and spreading his arms defensively.  "He doesn't remember."

Akane's expression darkened further.  "You _knew_, didn't you," she said.  "You knew all along, you _jerk!"_  She raised her hand.

"Wait!  It's not what you think," Ranma said hurriedly.  He ducked as she swung at him.  "Quit it!  Akane, you can beat me up later all you want, and you can beat Ryoga up too, but you can't go hitting him when he don't even understand why!"

"Why should I listen to _you?" _Akane shrieked.  She aimed a vicious kick at his head.

Ranma ducked again.  "Because, he don't even know why you're doing it, and in case you forgot, he landed headfirst on a bunch of rocks just a week ago!"

Akane faltered slightly.  Ranma was right.  If she really let it loose on Ryoga now, it could, in a worst-case scenario, kill him.  She _was_ angry, but she certainly wasn't _that_ angry.

The brief halt in her fury allowed the second pressing emotion to surface.

Ryoga had deceived her.  And Ranma had deceived her.  

It hurt.  

Akane dropped out of her stance.  "F-fine," she said.  

Ranma relaxed a little, more out of surprise than anything.  Akane was listening to reason.  It was almost amazing…

"I'll just settle for hitting _you!" _she shouted.  Her fist connected with his jaw, sending him flying into a newly-standing Ryoga, who immediately found himself back on the ground.

"Ow," Ranma muttered.  He lifted his head and watched Akane run off, obviously in tears, then shifted himself off of the other young man.

"Are you alright?" Ranma asked, clambering to his feet.  Ryoga nodded mutely, looking completely lost as he knelt in the grass.  He appeared almost exactly as he had so many days before after he'd woken up—unhappy and confused, his eyes no longer trusting but nervous and uncertain.  

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice small.   

Ranma sighed.  Apparently, he'd have to do this right now instead of tomorrow.  So much for the best-laid plans.

"I can explain," the blue-eyed martial-artist said, unable to keep all despondence from his voice.  He'd have to wing it as best as he could…

But of course, he didn't get the chance.

"Airen!"


	6. Part 6

Disclaimer:  I do not own Ranma ½, Rumiko Takahashi does.  I'm just borrowing the characters.  So…tra la la, tra la la, tra la la la la la.

Warning:  The real angst starts here, kids.  If'n you be the type of folk to dislike angst, then you'd best skedaddle, because it only gets worse from here on in.  Lots worse.  As in "sweet merciful Jeebus, that's durn depressing and the like worse."  Ok?

Now lesson number one in homicide

Is emotional murder's no crime

You come around here

You'd better bring a witness

Everyone in here's on the guest list

When you're gone you won't be missed

Keep one eye open when you kiss…

~The Wallflowers, "Witness"

Within her room, Akane sat on her bed, clutching her favorite pillow and crying.

To think…all this time, Ryoga had been P-chan!  And neither he nor Ranma had ever told her!  

Akane couldn't remember being this angry in a long time.  She knew Ranma wasn't always the biggest stickler to the truth, but Ryoga had always seemed so honest!  But how could he have kept such a secret from her?  She'd always considered him to be one of her few good friends…but was this all she'd meant to him all along?  Had he only wanted to use her, to trick her with his curse so he could sleep in her bed?  

Akane didn't want to believe it.  She wanted to scream at him, to hit him, to demand why, to ask him for reasons that would contradict the horrible ones running through her own mind…

But the anger wasn't even the worst thing about it.  It hurt more than anything.  She'd loved her little P-chan, loved Ryoga as her friend, maybe even loved Ranma in some way she wasn't sure of.  And then, to find out that she'd been lied to all along…

How could it be?  Thoughts of the Lost Boy surfaced in her mind, Ryoga, defending her from Ranma's teasing; Ryoga, coming to help rescue her from people like Kirin and Toma; Ryoga, diving in front of her to protect her from Miss Hinako's draining attack; Ryoga, helping her train for the rhythmic gymnastics tournament and the fight with her 'sisters'; Ryoga, trying to not only eat her cooking but complimenting her for it as well; Ryoga, who'd always listened, who'd always been so generous and kind to her…

It just didn't make sense.

Akane paused, lifting her head from the pillow.

That was it.  It just _didn't _make sense.

"Ohh…" she breathed, realization dawning on her.  The dates, the way he stood up for her, the way he always tried to spare her feelings, the things he brought her home sometimes…and the sudden change once the amnesia had set in.

Had she been so blind to it all along? 

And how could she have brushed it all off without a single thought?  

Akane rubbed at her eyes.  Things had just become so much more complicated...  

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of some sort of commotion in the yard.  Discarding her pillow, Akane went to look out her window.

"Shampoo?"

*

"Ni hao!"

Ranma felt his patience wearing thin as he tried to pry Shampoo's arms from around his neck.  

"Look, Shampoo, I really don't got time for this now-"

Shampoo took a step back and looked at him with a crafty gleam in her eyes that Ranma knew meant trouble.  "Ranma make time," she sing-songed.

The pigtailed boy scowled at her warily.  "Now what're you up to?"

Shampoo smiled in a way that managed to make her look dangerous and cute at the same time.  "Say you go on date with Shampoo."

"Why would I do _that?"_ Ranma retorted.

"Because," said the violet-headed Amazon smugly, "Shampoo have something that make Ryoga remember _everything." _

Ranma's eyes widened.  "Wh-what?" he asked incredulously.

Shampoo pulled out the vial and held it up for him to see.  "You know what this one is?  Is ancient Amazon cure for amnesia.  All Shampoo have do is throw powder at Directionless Boy."  She sent a pointed look in Ryoga's direction.  "Ranma _want_ for Ryoga to remember, yes?  Should Shampoo give to Ryoga now?"

"No!" Ranma hissed furiously.  

"Hey, Ranma-honey!"

"Oh, perfect," the pigtailed boy growled as Ukyo came running across the street.  She leapt up onto the wall surrounding the yard, her eyes narrowing when she saw Shampoo.  

"Ukyo, what're you doin' here?" Ranma asked.

"What's that hussy doing here?" Ukyo asked.

"Spatula Girl be quiet!" Shampoo snapped.  "Ranma, say you date Shampoo, or else!"

"Not doin' that either!" Ranma said.  He swiped at the vial, and Shampoo leapt backwards to land atop the wall.  "Give me that!" he shouted, jumping up after her.

"Ranma?  What's going on?" Ryoga asked, staring up at the two facing off above him.

Shampoo pulled the stopper from the vial.  "Ryoga, come here.  Shampoo have special present…"

"Shampoo," Ranma warned, "give me that, right now!"

"Ranchan, what _is_ that?"

Shampoo tittered and danced back a step along the wall, closer to where the Lost Boy was standing.  "Not unless you say you date Shampoo," she taunted.

"Ranma!" Akane came running out into the yard, followed by her sisters, her father, and Genma; all curious to see what the ruckus was all about.

"Oh my.  I didn't realize we had company," Kasumi said.

"Ranma, why are Shampoo and Ukyo here?" Akane asked.

"Shampoo!  Shampoo!"  

Ranma turned towards the sound of the call and saw Mousse charging across the yard, with Cologne not far behind.  "Just what I need," he muttered to himself.  Why did everyone pick the worst of times to show up?

"W-wait!  Shampoo, don't use that powder!  If you get any of that on him, Ryoga will remember everything!" Mousse yelled.

"What?" Ukyo cried, her voice a hybrid of alarm and disbelief.

Shampoo stamped her foot down in annoyance, causing a small puff of powder to drift up from the vial's opening.  "Stupid Mousse!  Go away before you mess up everything!"  

"Shampoo, watch it with that stuff!" Ranma shouted.

The Amazon shot him an exasperated look.  "No is real potion for real!  Is fake!  Real one at Cat Café, Shampoo no risk bringing it here."  She turned towards Ryoga, raising the vial over her head and preparing to toss it towards him.  "See, this one only flour."

"No!  Shampoo, I switched the vials!  That's the real one!" Mousse cried.  

The warning was an instant too late.  

"Aiyah!" Shampoo shrieked.  She lunged, trying to grab the vial that had just left her hand as it arced away from her, the glass sparkling merrily in the afternoon sun.  

Ranma dove after it.  Ukyo dove after it.  Shampoo dove after it.

And missed it as all three collided with each other in midair, then crashed to the ground in a heap.

The vial flew through the air, end over end, spewing the powder as it went.  It finally landed at Ryoga's feet, where it shattered into a dozen little pieces, the remainder of its contents bursting upwards in a cloud.  

"No," Ranma gasped in dismay.  He watched as the powder surrounded the Lost Boy completely, shrouding him in a haze of white.  

Within it, Ryoga closed his eyes, choking as he tried to wave the powder away from his face.  He went down on his knees, half-dazed, trying to breathe.

"Ryoga, hold breath!" Shampoo cried belatedly.  

Ranma and the others shoved themselves to their feet as the dust began to settle, horror stamped across their features.  Ryoga knelt coughing in the midst of it, his hands raised to his head.  A strange buzzing noise began to sound in his ears.  

"Ryoga-honey?" Ukyo's voice rang out, heavy with concern.  

_What's happening to me? _Ryoga wondered dimly.  His thoughts seemed to be somehow detached from his body, and the voices of those around him grew faint.  The buzzing grew louder, pulsing behind his eyes and down his throat.  A hot tearing sensation filled him…

He started to open his mouth, to ask someone for help, but nothing came out.

Then it all came rushing back.

The world around him blurred and vanished as a thousand images flew through his mind in a wild swirl of color and sound, screaming through his senses in an unstoppable torrent.  Places and people, things that happened, things that he'd done and that had been done to him; his parents, faceless strangers, the different cities, home, woods and mountains and buildings, training and techniques, fights and wins and losses, anger, laughter, loneliness, smiles, tears, his, theirs, all of it…all the broken dreams and forgotten promises, the wasted chances and shattered hopes…it was as though somewhere inside, a vast door had been opened, freeing everything within from the good to the impossibly terrible, allowing it to rage through him like a violent maelstrom, his entire life crushed into a single, brief moment…

Ryoga jerked his head up with a gasp as it stopped short, the door within his mind abruptly slamming shut.  His vision cleared, returning the mundane view of his hands, which he'd planted on the wind-brushed grass to support him.  He blinked in shock, trying to assimilate what had just happened to him.

It was so quiet…

Ryoga sensed those around him and turned.  All eyes were on him—Cologne and Mousse, both standing near the pond, Shampoo and Ukyo a few feet away from him, Kasumi standing with her hands clasped in front of her on the porch, Nabiki and their father beside her, then Genma in his panda form…

And Akane.

All were wide-eyed, expressions full of expectancy, concern, or both.  

Ryoga felt something go chill within him.  A numbing cold began to spread its way throughout his body, turning it to ice as one particular thought surfaced from the newly-made pool of memories in his mind.  

Akane…Akane knew…

Somewhere near his heart, the ice began to break, falling in cold, tiny pieces. 

She knew.

And no one…no one had even tried to tell him…

_"Were we…friends?"_

_"Sure.  The best…"_

Ryoga raised his eyes to the young man standing before him.  

Ranma stared at him silently, his face devoid of expression but for the tinge of troubled anticipation that shaded his knowing blue eyes.  A sinking feeling settled in his chest as he watched the Lost Boy's shoulders begin to tremble.  

"You…you _lied_ to me!" Ryoga cried, his voice tearing from his throat.  Before Ranma could even blink, Ryoga had launched himself towards him, his fists a blur.  The blue-eyed martial artist took a step back, dodging and bringing his arms up to block in order to avoid the repeated and rapid lunges.  He tried to think of something reasonable to say, or to at least find an opening; but Ryoga was suddenly precise in his fury, anger radiating from him in heated black waves, his attack leaving no room for Ranma to gain an advantage.  

"Ryoga, wait…" Ranma managed, ducking his head to the side as the bandana'd boy's fist flew past the side of his face.  He was losing ground, unable to avoid being hit without moving back.

"How _could_ you?!" Ryoga screamed, slamming his fist into Ranma's crossed forearms and causing the pigtailed boy to stagger.  "You _bastard!" _

"Wait," Ranma gasped, dodging another ki-charged jab.  He responded with a short stream of lightning-fast punches aimed at the bandana'd boy's chest, but Ryoga shifted to lead with his shoulder and the few that hit landed on his arm instead.  Ryoga all but ignored it.

"It's not…what you think…"  Ranma's breath was forced out of him as a glancing blow struck his side, and another collided with his shoulder.  He could feel Ryoga's aura shifting like the air before a storm, the anger darkening into despair.  "Ryoga, stop!"

_"Go to hell!"_ the Lost Boy shouted.  He punctuated the last word with a sharp kick that caught Ranma in his midsection, the force of it sending him sprawling onto the ground.  Ranma looked up to see Ryoga bring his hands together in front of him as a faint blue glow formed between them.

There wasn't time to move anywhere that would make a difference.  A Shi-shi Hokodan at this range was going to hurt like hell; but then again, Ranma thought, maybe he deserved it.  

He waited for the searing blast to slam into him, to hear the roar of displaced ki hurtling past at any instant…

But it didn't happen.

Ranma glanced up in surprise.  Instead of letting the attack loose, Ryoga was just standing there, a small sphere of ki swirling between his trembling hands.  Crystalline tears were slipping down his face, falling from wounded dark eyes; eyes that shone with betrayal and terrible hurt.  

Somewhere in the back of Ranma's mind, he realized that this was worse than being hit by a Shi-shi Hokodan.

A moment later, Ryoga's hands fell, the ball of ki dissipating into blue-white wisps that quickly faded.  

"I hate you."

Then he turned and fled.

"Ryoga…" Ranma breathed.  He remained where he was on the soft grass, still half-dazed from the entire incident.  Then he leapt to his feet and ran to the wall.  "Ryoga!"  

But the Lost Boy was already nowhere in sight.  

"Damn," Ranma muttered.  Then, feeling the eyes upon him, he turned around to face them.  No one had moved, but their expressions had changed.  Shampoo appeared somewhat deflated, her bright demeanor uncharacteristically abashed.  Ukyo looked at him with unbridled annoyance that was quickly inching towards anger, and maybe even a touch of disgust.  Akane's face was stamped with consternation.  His father simply held up a sign with an exclamation point scrawled on it.  Soun was wide-eyed, but seemed otherwise blank.  Nabiki stared at him rigidly but uncertainly, and Kasumi's mouth was set in a small line that indicated she was as close to disapproval as she could get.  Mousse appeared unsure whether to be chagrined or aggravated, but scowled nonetheless.

Ranma wanted to give them some sort of explanation, some sort of vindication, but realized he didn't really have one.

"Oh, Ranma," Cologne sighed, finally breaking the silence.  "What have you gone and done now?"

Author's Notes:  If anyone's wondering why stuff is so spaced-out and odd looking, it's just because FF.net hates me and insists on displaying everything I upload as totally wonky regardless of what I do to the original document, or which format I try to upload it in.  So, please forgive the craptacular 3-inch spaces between lines and whatnot.  And if there are any angst/darkness-haters still present, I'll warn ye all again:  It.  Only.  Gets.  Worse.  From.  Here.  Note that the genre is DRAMA/ANGST.  That's right, it's DRAMA/ANGST.   Third time's a charm:  DRAMA/ANGST.  That means it's gonna be **dark**.  It's gonna be **depressing**.  The characters are going to experience _mental anguish_ and _emotional pain_.  Now that this has been thoroughly hammered into everyone's skulls, any flames that contain whining or complaining or general bitchery about this story being too dark or too depressing will be giggled at and possibly posted in other places for more people to giggle at.  Because you've been warned.  That this story is DRAMA/ANGST.  Multiple times.  Enough times so that as long as you have an IQ bigger than your shoe-size, you should understand.  That this is DRAMA/ANGST.  

And besides all that…while I'm very glad to see that other people seem to be enjoying this (^ ^), the real reason I've started posting it here is because a friend of mine is in China and can't access my webpage, but would like to reread it.  So…la. XD


	7. Part 7

Disclaimer:  Ranma ½ is property of Rumiko Takahashi.  The characters are being borrowed for the purposes of this fic, which is meant for entertainment only.

Warning:  Remember the angst I warned you about last time?  Well, it's still here.  Lots of it. ^ ^

Memories are just where you laid them 

Drag the waters 'til the depths give up their dead

What did you expect to find?

Was it something you left behind?

Don't you remember 

Everything I said when I said

Don't fall away

And leave me to myself

Don't fall away

And leave love bleeding in my hands

In my hands again

And leave love bleeding in my hands

In my hands

Love lies bleeding…

~Fuel, "Hemorrhage"

Ryoga ran through the streets, half-blinded by tears, not knowing where he was headed and not caring.  It hurt far too much to care about something as trivial as a destination, so long as it was far from _there_.  He paid no attention to what was around him; the physical world seemed to have shattered along with his heart, disappearing into the haze of pain and despair that now comprised his existence.

So he ran on and on, as though he might be able to escape from the traitorous agony that stabbed at his soul like so many pieces of broken glass, dashing through the streets in the fading day towards nothing.

And if he happened to get hit by a truck on the way, then so much the better.

Ryoga kept going until he reached the river, the sunlight sparkling on its surface cutting through his veil of tears.  Recognizing the place, he ran towards the bridge that spanned the water and down the embankment below.  Underneath, the single support bent inwards for several feet to form a hollow metal L.  Anyone passing, even someone on the other side of the river, would see nothing, if they even bothered to look in the first place.  Ryoga fairly threw himself into the corner, where he curled into a ball and let the tears come in earnest. 

How _could_ he?  That was the salient question in Ryoga's mind as he cried in the fold of his arms, his entire body wracked by sobs.  How could Ranma have done such a thing?  Ryoga knew that Ranma didn't like him, the teasing and insults and tricks showed that clearly enough, but _this?_  This was far beyond it all.  He'd been completely helpless, knowing barely anything more than his name, yet Ranma had still taken the opportunity to be mean, to humiliate him.   Lying to win his trust, then acting nice to him so that when Ryoga learned the truth, it would crush him even more.  It was bad enough that he'd been inconsiderate to Akane throughout his memory-less haze, and the knowledge that she knew about P-chan was enough to tear him apart, but it was the heavy feeling of betrayal that was the most painful.  It shredded him down to the deepest part of his inner self, slashing and tearing at him from within.  Ranma had misled him, completely and cruelly, and no one else had even bothered to tell him!  None of them cared enough to even bother, not Akane or even Ukyo, and Shampoo and Mousse had even gone so far as to try and use him.  Knowing that he meant so little to all, these people that he'd let himself care about on some level or another, was too much for his fragile emotions to take.

His thoughts too disjointed to do anything else, Ryoga stayed hidden in his tiny corner by the river and cried endlessly; not noticing the dance of the sun's final rainbowed rays upon the water as night began to creep in, folding around him like a protective blanket that had, regretfully, come too late to shield him from harm.

*

Ranma shot a dark look towards the ancient Amazon matriarch poised on her wooden staff beside the koi pond in the Tendos' yard.

"Don't try to pin this on me, you Old Ghoul!  Amazon cure for amnesia—whose bright idea was that?  If you were gonna bluff with it, then why the hell didja bother to make the real stuff anyway?"

Cologne narrowed her eyes at him.  "Because some people thought that giving Ryoga a cure would be helpful to him," she answered dryly.  "Especially since you chose not to help him yourself."

Ranma's scowl deepened.  "I was _about_ to tell him everything, 'til all of you showed up!"

Cologne hmm'd in annoyance.  "Son-in-Law, the cure was made to be used only after things had been explained to him, either by you or by us, if you hadn't agreed to the terms.  The event that he was cured now happened to be purely by mishap."

"Besides, if you hadn't lied to him in the first place, this wouldn't have happened," Mousse added accusingly.

Ranma turned on him, his eyes flashing.  "Who are you to talk?  You're the one who switched the damn vials, you idiot!  And don't go callin' me a liar; not with all that junk you were tryin' to get him to believe that first day!"

"The difference, Ranma Saotome, is that _you're _the one who made him believe it, not me," Mousse retorted.

"Why you-"

_"Stop it!" _

Both of the young men leapt out of the way as a huge mallet slammed down between them.  Akane yanked it back off the ground and glared at them furiously.

"I can't believe you!  Arguing like two-year-olds over who's to blame!  Did it occur to any of you to go and _look _for him?!" she demanded.

Everyone blinked at her silently for a moment.  

"Uh…that might not be a bad idea," Mousse said nervously.

Akane glanced around at everyone for a moment.  "Then let's go," she said decisively.

"Yeah, right Akane," Ranma said sardonically.  "The last time he talked to you, you hit him so hard it knocked him down.  I'm _sure_ he'll come runnin' right to you if you find him."

The shorthaired girl clenched her fists, her face contorting in anger.  "If you'd told me about 'P-chan' in the first place, it wouldn't have happened!"

Aside from Ranma, everyone's eyes widened.  "You found out about _that?" _Ukyo asked incredulously.

"Of course I did," Akane said.  "Ryoga told me."

Ukyo clenched her teeth.  That threw a major wrench into the works of any future plans involving Ryoga.  Of course, the broken heart wasn't going to help much either.  "Rannmaaa…"

The pigtailed boy scowled again.  "It ain't like I _meant_ for it happen!" he shouted.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Cologne rasped.  "Enough of this.  Go and search for him while you still have daylight on your side."

"Is good idea," Shampoo said.

"So let's go," Ranma said impatiently.  

"You can't go," Mousse said matter-of-factly, his tone condescending.  He tucked his hands into his sleeves.

Ranma whirled to face him.  "Who asked you, Duck-Boy?" he snapped.  

"He's…got a point," Akane agreed, sounding somewhat contrite.

Ranma faltered, disbelief flickering across his features.  "What?"

Ukyo arched an eyebrow.  "Well, you said yourself that Ryoga wouldn't take seeing Akane well," she said, "so how do you think he'd react if he saw you?"

"You're probably the last person he wants to see," Mousse added.

Ranma blinked.  It suddenly seemed as though everyone there had come to be his undoing in some way or another, all planning to tell and destroy everything or try to gain an advantage.  He glanced around searchingly, as though trying to find someone who might be on his side.  But it looked as though the only person who had been was Ryoga, and that had ended about five minutes ago.  The realization made him swallow hard.

"B-but I…I didn't mean for…it wasn't supposed to…" he stammered, trying to explain.

"Well, what did you think was going to happen?" Mousse asked.  

Shampoo glanced up at the sky, noting the sun's lower position.  "We should go now," she said.

"Damn straight," Ukyo said.  This was nonsense; Ryoga was out running around somewhere, undoubtedly lost and in no condition to be by himself.  She leapt up onto the wall.  "Maybe you better just sit tight, Ranchan," she said over her shoulder before disappearing.  

Akane cast a final look in Ranma's direction, then followed Ukyo.  Mousse shrugged and took off in another direction, and Shampoo did the same.  

Ranma turned back towards the house, but everybody had either left or gone back inside, leaving him alone in the empty yard.   

* 

It was more by accident than anything else that Ukyo found him.  

Nearly an hour had passed since Ukyo had met up with the others and decided, resignedly, to call off the search until tomorrow.  None seemed happy with the outcome—after all, Ryoga didn't even have his pack, which meant wherever he was, chances were he'd be spending the night without shelter.  They'd all gone their separate ways; and the only thing Ukyo figured she had going for her was that she was the sole person who wouldn't have to be the bearer of bad news, as she had nothing but an empty restaurant to return to.  

It might have been this knowledge that led Ukyo, despite being weary and worried, to continue walking through town rather than heading home.  Full night had finally pushed away the last of the twilight, leaving the sky overhead a wash of soft blue-black that faded to deep violet on the horizon, broken only by the scattering of cold white stars.  Suddenly longing to be away from the press of houses and buildings, Ukyo headed towards the river.  

Had she been on the other side, or even come from the opposite direction, she probably would have entirely missed the form of a boy wearing a dusky yellow shirt tucked in the corner beneath the bridge.  But she was on the same side of the river that Ryoga was on, and she approached from the opposite end of the support.  She happened to glance over at the far corner as she passed under the bridge, and was startled to find him there, his knees pulled up against his chest with his head resting in the fold of his arms.

"Ryoga," she said, startled to find him after all the searching they'd done.  He didn't respond, so Ukyo walked over to him slowly, realizing that he was fast asleep.  She stopped when she was still a few yards away so she wouldn't wake him, but even at that distance and in the limited light, she could plainly see the tearstains streaking his face.

She sighed softly, guilt and sympathy washing away her initial relief.  Ryoga's clothes were disheveled and dusty, as though he'd been under here for some time, and his expression was pained even in slumber.  She wondered what to do—her first thought was to shake him awake and take him home, but she was fairly certain he'd refuse, if he didn't run outright.  Trying to knock him unconscious wasn't an option, not with the possible ramifications that came along with it.  Finally she looked at the river, contemplating the liquid flow of the glittering silver water for a moment before sighing again.  This wasn't likely to go over well either, but she couldn't really think of anything else.  

The young woman stepped over to the water's edge, wondering briefly how much of it was needed and how she would carry it back over to where the Lost Boy was sitting.  Shrugging, she knelt down and cupped her hands, but then she noticed an abandoned juice can lying a few feet away.  Ukyo picked it up for inspection, then pulled one of her small spatulas from her bandolier and used it to shear off the top, leaving her with a sort of aluminum cup.  She scooped up as much water as it would hold, then carefully carried it back under the bridge.  Pausing to hope that he wouldn't be too furious over what she was about to do, Ukyo tossed the water at Ryoga's face.

Before the newly-awakened P-chan could untangle himself from the heap of clothes, Ukyo caught hold of his bandana and held on tight.  Seeing who it was, the piglet began to kick and struggle, letting out noises that were a mixture of indignation and protest.

Ukyo lifted him so she could hold him with both hands, despite his continued wriggling.  "C'mon, stop it already," she said.

The piglet let out another bwee of objection.  "I know," Ukyo told him, "but you can't be out here all alone."  As if to prove her point, the wind blew a chill breeze through, causing him to shiver violently.

"Let's get you home," Ukyo said.  "Look, you don't have to talk to any of them if you don't want to, alright?"

P-chan emitted a final sound that let her know that no, it was _not_ alright, but the tone was now more despondent than annoyed.  Nonetheless, Ukyo kept one hand on his bandana as she collected his clothes.  Tucking the bundle under her arm, she slipped her free hand beneath him so he wouldn't be hanging by his neck.  Making sure she had a decent grip on both clothing and piglet, she started the long walk home.  

*

The town had fallen quiet with the rising of the moon, and the lack of lighted windows indicated that most of Nerima's residents had gone to sleep.  

One of the few that remained awake sat atop the roof of the Tendo home, watching the night as the moon began its journey across the sky.  It was cold, but Ranma paid little attention to the chill wind that blew around him, ruffling his inky hair and cutting through his red silk shirt.  He was too distracted by his own thoughts to really care.

Ranma lowered his head into his arms for what seemed like the dozenth time that night.  It had been hours since Akane had returned home with the report that no one had found any sign of Ryoga, and of the plan to uptake the search again in the morning—another activity Ranma was sure he'd be pointedly excluded from.  

Knowing that the Lost Boy was still out there somewhere had him worried plenty, but knowing he was the main reason for it only served to make it worse.  Normally, Ranma would try to brush such things off, but there was really no way for him to get around this one—he'd screwed up, and he'd been called on it.  

Ranma squeezed his eyes shut behind his arms.  Couldn't they see he hadn't meant for this to happen?  This had been the last thing he'd wanted, and he'd been about to try and fix things until everyone else had shown up and transformed what was already a mess into a complete catastrophe.  It didn't matter to anyone that all of them had played some part in bringing this about.  It didn't matter that in some way or another, almost everyone had hoped to turn the situation to their advantage.  All that seemed to matter was that he had been the one to cause Ryoga's amnesia in the first place, and that he had been the one to twist the truth from the very start.  

And the moment they found out that Akane had learned about Ryoga's curse, they'd assumed that their worst suspicions were true.  They figured that Ranma had done it on purpose—another mortifying trick that probably served the double purpose of making Akane dislike Ryoga beyond repair.

Ranma had to admit that it _did_ look bad.  But it still stung that no one had even bothered to ask him if it was true.  This wasn't what he was really concerned about though—chances were he'd be able to clear himself of it, especially with Shampoo and Ukyo.  Akane would take some time, and by then everyone else would've abandoned the issue entirely.

Except for one person.

And the blue-eyed martial artist doubted that he'd be able to mend that, if he ever even got the chance.  Ranma tried to swallow down the tightness in his throat.  Ryoga had said he hated him before, but he'd never really believed it.  

Until now, that was.

And why shouldn't he, Ranma wondered dimly.  He never would've done it if he'd known it all might go so terribly wrong, but Ryoga didn't know that.  All he knew was that Ranma had deceived him beyond all else, and probably thought it had been done it as some sort of cruel joke meant to ruin his relationship with Akane and humiliate him before everyone.

_It's not fair,_ Ranma thought to himself.  He should've known better than to start the whole thing, but just for once he wanted to know what it was like to have someone who wasn't a fiancée or a rival.  He was sick of being viewed down a single, narrow track by everyone who knew him, despite what he might do to change their perceptions.  He was always the jerk, the enemy, the pervert, the freak, the obstacle, the half-girl, the hated one—all things he'd never wanted to be.  And the other side was hardly better—the fiancé, the 'husband', the coveted one, the grand prize.  He was never accepted for who he was, but only for who they thought he should be, who they wanted him to be, who they saw him as.  He'd just wanted the chance to be considered normal, to be on even ground with someone.  When Ryoga had lost his memory, the chance had arisen; but as usual, Ranma had rushed into it headlong without really stopping to consider the repercussions.  And now everything was in shambles.  

It wouldn't be so bad if he was the only person who would suffer for his mistake, but as with everything that happened in his life, there were other people caught up in the middle.  Ryoga, for one, and he took everything twice as hard as anyone else would.  Then there was Akane.  Akane, who'd found out Ryoga's secret through a total and unprepared shock rather than easing into it as Ranma—and Ryoga too, he figured—would have preferred to do it.  Because of him, Akane was hurt and confused, and Ryoga was probably in emotional tatters.  

Ranma winced at that particular thought and clenched his fists, his nails digging deeply into his palms.  He was sorry for them, but he felt sorry for himself at the same time.  No one would listen to him if he tried to explain it all; and even if they did listen, they wouldn't understand.  More than ever, it seemed as though no one cared about his own feelings.  His father, trying to push him onto Akane; Akane, fighting with him and calling him names; Ukyo and Shampoo constantly treating engagement like it was a competition…it never seemed to stop.  Did Akane think he was unaffected by the things she said in her fits of temper, swinging a mallet at him left and right, calling him a pervert and a jerk?  Did Ryoga believe that his words meant nothing; that the blame and the accusations didn't hurt?  Sure, Ranma put on a front of indifference and an uncaring attitude, and it was true that his fast-healing ego provided a strong shield, but he was still human underneath.  Why couldn't any of them even try to understand that?

Somehow, they'd all ended up stuck in a miserable cycle of verbal and physical back-and-forth, a tangle of unintentional insult met with a sharp retort or fists.  Other things said to intimidate or anger were met with hurt and frustration.  The only thing that had resulted from it was a web of confusion and misunderstanding—Akane jumping to the wrong conclusions, Ryoga bristling with over-sensitivity, all taking the wrong things seriously and the serious things unbelievingly.  Ranma felt like he was the center of it all, though most of the time he didn't understand the reactions of the others anymore than they understood his.

_It's not fair, _Ranma thought again.  Life wasn't fair—he knew that, certainly, but sometimes it seemed as though it was even less fair for him than for so many other people.  He wondered again what he might be able to do to rectify the situation; and again came up with the answer that, in all likelihood, nothing.  But he'd have to try.

Of course, finding Ryoga would be a good start.

Ranma remembered the Lost Boy's pack, still sitting in his bedroom.  Akane and the others hadn't found him.  That meant he could be out there somewhere, with no food, no shelter, no money, and if he got lost…  

How could they have stopped looking?  

Ranma shoved himself to his feet and leapt down to the yard.  They'd all been right, he was probably the last person Ryoga wanted to see, but what had already happened was bad enough.  Ranma didn't need him wandering around hungry and cold and lost with nothing but a head injury and the clothes he was wearing…

He ran off into the night.

*

Ukyo sighed as she dug through a drawer full of old clothes, tossing random articles onto the floor.  She held up a dark blue t-shirt for inspection, then stood up, deciding it would have to do.  She turned around and picked up the other things she'd set aside, then headed back to the kitchen.

"These should fit you," Ukyo said to the small black piglet sitting on the floor.  He let out an agitated sound in response and shook his head.  "Well, you can't wear your own," she told him.  "I put them in the wash.  You got them all dirty sitting where you did, and besides that, they were wet."  She picked up a bath towel from the counter and draped it over her arm as she reached for the kettle sitting on the stove.  

"It's not boiling, but I guess it should be hot enough to do the trick," she said, turning to the piglet once more.  Ukyo started to tip it over his head, but he backed away from the stream of water, letting it splash uselessly on the floor.

"Ryoga," she chided, though she didn't really have the heart to be annoyed with him.  He let out an indignant squeal and glared at her.  

"I won't look, alright?" Ukyo promised.  "I'll give you the towel, and I won't open my eyes until you say so. Ok?"

The piglet eyed her for a moment, then nodded.  Ukyo tipped the kettle again, this time closing her eyes as she poured.  She turned around to set the kettle on the countertop and unfolded the towel, then held it out to where she assumed Ryoga would be.

"All the shades are down," Ukyo said, still facing away from him.  "You can get dressed right here if you want."  A reluctant sigh followed by the rustle of clothing let her know that he'd complied.  

"All set?" Ukyo asked after a few minutes.  Ryoga muttered something that sounded like a yes, so she turned to face him.  The Lost Boy appeared decidedly miserable, the impression heightened by his damp hair and the rumpled clothes.

_At least they fit, _Ukyo thought to herself, somewhat wryly.  Lucky that she was tall for a girl and that Ryoga wasn't that big—and that she'd lost the receipt to that pair of pants she'd mistakenly bought in a couple sizes too large.  A small thing to go right in such a long day.

"Well?" Ryoga said expectantly, stilling her line of thought.  He gazed at her hollowly, his voice flat.

"Well what?" Ukyo asked.

"Aren't you going to hit me or something?" he replied, as though it should have been obvious.

She stared at him quizzically.  "Why would I do that?"

Ryoga's expression darkened into a scowl.  "It's what you usually do, when something goes wrong," he said.

Ukyo sensed his rising upset.  "No," she said quickly.  "What happened wasn't your fault."

"That never stopped you before," Ryoga muttered.

Ukyo blinked, feeling stung.  Why was he saying these things to her?  She'd tried to be nice to him through this entire thing…  Then she realized what he meant.  He'd remembered all the times she _hadn't _been kind, the times she had hit him for no real reason other than her own temper or some perceived infraction.  She felt her face color slightly with shame.

"I'm not gonna hit you," she said.  "I'm not mad at you.  If anything, you should be mad."

Ryoga looked away.  "Why?  It's my own fault for l-listening, and-"

Ukyo stepped forward and put a hand on his arm.  "Don't," she said quietly.  "Don't worry about all that right now."  She led him over to the table and pushed him down into a chair.  "Sit down.  Let me get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," he protested, but she was already setting a skillet on the stove and pulling out a spatula.  She went to the refrigerator and took out a bowl of batter.

"You should at least try," Ukyo said as she poured some batter into the pan.  "It's late, and you haven't eaten anything in hours.  Besides, you were out running around, too.  You really shouldn't have done that, you know.  Not with hurting your head and all.  I mean, it's only been a little over a week."  She pulled a plate from one of the cupboards as the scent of cooking okonomiyaki filled the room.  "Dr. Tofu would probably throw a fit if he knew," Ukyo continued, trying to gracefully avoid the subject of what had happened at the Tendos'.  "Everyone else is going stir-crazy, not knowing where you are.  They all went to look for you, though I guess no one thought you'd be hiding out underneath a bridge.  I don't think I'll ever understand how you end up the places you do."  She flipped the okonomiyaki onto the plate with a deft movement of her spatula.  "Here you go.  Don't worry, there's not a bit of pork in it."

"I really don't think I…" Ryoga began, but Ukyo slid the plate in front of him.  

"I know you're upset, Sugar," she told him, "but anything is better than nothing."

The bandana'd boy glanced up at her, then looked down at the okonomiyaki.  It was perfect as always, golden brown with just the right amount of sauce…

Ryoga shoved himself away from the table with his hand pressed over his mouth; then turned and dashed for the bathroom.

"Ryoga?" Ukyo said bewilderedly.  A moment later, she heard him retch.  "Damn," she hissed, turning to shut off the stove.  She waited for the sound of the toilet flushing, then ran around the corner and to the doorway.

"Ryoga?" she said anxiously, catching herself at the doorjamb.  He was kneeling on the floor in a heap, pale and shaking, his expression dismayed.

"S-sorry, Ukyo," he gasped, his voice beginning to break.  "I-it's not th-that I think your c-cooking is b-bad or anyth-thing, I j-just…"  His shoulders slumped as he trailed off, covering his eyes with his hand.

"Oh, Ryoga," Ukyo breathed, kneeling beside him on the cool tiles.  She put her arms around him and pulled him close against her as he struggled to refrain from sobbing.

"It's alright," Ukyo said, resting her cheek against the soft warmth of his hair and cursing herself once again for not having told him before this had happened.  "Don't cry, Ryoga-honey, please.  It'll be Ok, really…"

AN:

You know the routine. But please don't try to convince me that Ryoga's overreacting or something like that—he's not.  Not at all.  Trust the psych student on this one.  And no, this chapter does not guarantee a  Ryoga/Ukyo pairing.  Matter of fact, it doesn't guarantee much in the way of jack, so…stop jumping to conclusions, O those of you who know who you are.  

Itai.  ^ ^


	8. Part 8

Disclaimer:  Ranma ½ belongs to Rumiko Takahashi, Fuji TV, Kitty Films, and Shogakukan.  Not me.  I'm just borrowing it.

Warning :  *takes an experimental lick*  Yep, still angsty.  

Who am I

To need you when I'm down?

And where are you

When I need you around?

Your life is not your own

And all I ask you

Is for another chance

Another way around you

To live by circumstance

Once again…

~Smashing Pumpkins, "Crestfallen"

The sky overhead had darkened to a velvety black while the small hours of the morning crept in.  Silence, but for the occasional wind that swept around buildings and sent leaves skittering through the streets, prevailed as the crisp night wore on, unnoticed by the slumbering world.  

Ranma had started to take the quiet for granted, the only things he heard were the dull sound of his footfalls on the sidewalk and his own thoughts.  His energy was waning, as was his formerly-iron resolve.  He felt like he knew every inch of the town as intimately as if he'd been confined to it his entire life—corners, alleys, yards, driveways, rooftops, gardens, doorways, empty lots—he'd searched all of it up and down.  And, much to his dismay and frustration, he hadn't found any sign of Ryoga anywhere.

Despite his insistent denial, the former nervousness Ranma had experienced as to the Lost Boy's whereabouts was deepening towards an uneasy anxiety.  Ryoga could take care of himself, but that general statement no longer seemed to hold the reassurance it had before when situations had taken unexpected turns and Ranma had been uncertain as to the Lost Boy's state upon departure.  This time, Ryoga was without his pack, was still recovering from a concussion, was likely dwelling in shock over the suddenness of his memory returning, had his mind full of the misconception that the girl he loved despised him, and heaven knew what else.

_Maybe he found someplace to hole up for the night, _Ranma thought, attempting to rationalize in a way that would help still the concern stirring within him.  That seemed reasonable, Ryoga was resourceful and knew that shelter was important…

_Yeah, it's probably his number one priority.  Ain't like he won't be thinking clearly or anything, after what happened._

"He'll be fine…" Ranma said to himself.

_Maybe not_._  Maybe he's already lost in the woods_._  He doesn't have anything but the clothes he's wearing, the first rainstorm and he'll be a walking meal ticket for anything with teeth…_

"No, dammit!" Ranma shouted.  His voice shattered the soft silence of the night into almost tangible pieces as he slammed his fist into the lamp-lit pavement at his feet, creating a tiny crater complete with a perfect lacing of spider-web cracks spreading from its center.

"Damn," Ranma groaned under his breath.  This shouldn't be affecting him so much, it was just Ryoga…  He rocked back on his heels and rubbed his eyes with one hand.  Frustration and exhaustion didn't mix well with guilt, and his self-control was quickly weakening under it.

Ranma took a deep breath and glanced across the street.  It was a familiar sight—Ukyo's restaurant, but the windows were darkened, and an apologetic closed sign was on the door.  The blue-eyed boy sighed.  The scene reminded him that everyone was at the least annoyed with him, if not outright furious.  

Ranma rose from his crouched position on the sidewalk, unsure of whether he should give up and go home or keep looking.  Then he noticed light coming from windows on the second floor, and wondered if it meant Ukyo was awake.  Ranma pushed himself to his feet.  Either something was happening, or she was sleeping with the lights on.  He crossed the street and went to the back door, but hesitated for a brief moment before knocking.  Deciding she was already aggravated anyway, he went ahead and rapped on the dark-colored wood a few times.

Several minutes passed, and he was about to turn around and leave when Ukyo finally opened the door.  "Ucchan.  You're awake," Ranma said.  She looked almost as tired as he felt.  "I, uh…I saw your lights were on," he explained.

"What are you doing out here at this time of night?" Ukyo asked him.  Then she realized  it was actually very close to dawn; the sky was beginning to lighten, and only the brighter stars were still visible.

Ranma fidgeted.  "I was looking for Ryoga," he admitted.  "I know everyone already tried to find him, but he don't even…I mean, he's not…"  He trailed off, somewhat flustered by the effort to explain his actions while keeping his pride intact.

Ukyo sighed and raised a hand to her forehead.  "Don't worry," she said resignedly.  "He's here."

The blue-eyed boy blinked in surprise.  "He's…he's here?  You found him?"

Ukyo nodded hesitantly.  "He was down by the river…I found him after we'd all split up for the night."

"Is he alright?" Ranma asked, a little breathlessly.

"Of course he's not alright!" Ukyo snapped, and Ranma jerked back reflexively.  She saw his reaction and sighed again.  "Look, Ranma-honey, this really isn't a good time."

"No kidding," Ranma replied, running a hand through his bangs.  "I really gotta talk to him."

Ukyo's expression grew exasperated.  "Ranchan, you can't.  He's asleep, and even if he wasn't, he doesn't want to talk to anyone."  She felt bad for denying him something, but she was almost certain that to give in would only produce further disaster.  For one thing, Ryoga would probably never forgive her.

Now it was Ranma's turn to sigh.  He didn't like having to wait on something that was pressing him so, but it was late—early, actually—and he was feeling too strung out to argue.  He'd have to settle for knowing that Ryoga had been found.

"Fine," he said.  "Whatever.  I'll see you later."

Ukyo blinked.  "Uh…Ok."  She stepped back and closed the door as the pigtailed boy turned away. 

Ranma rubbed his eyes with one hand again as he headed back towards the dojo.  He felt strangely tense, as though something within him was coiled like a spring that might break loose any moment, but he was too tired to try figuring out what it meant.  He was also preoccupied with the knowledge that although Ukyo had found Ryoga, this was far from over.

*

Akane stood by her window and blinked at the bright morning sun as it streamed through the clear glass panes.  Normally she liked waking up to a new a day, especially when it was sunny and blue-skied.  But today, she couldn't will her usual smile to her face, in spite of fair weather.  

The shorthaired girl turned away from the window, intending to make her bed.  But instead of pulling up the sheets, she rested a hand on her yellow pillow and sighed.

The past week seemed almost unreal.  Ryoga's amnesia, the way Ranma had been acting, finding out about P-chan…it was so much to sort through.  That was enough as it was, but then Shampoo had come along with her 'miracle cure', and Ryoga had run from them all…

Akane bit her lip and sank back onto the mattress, remembering those last few moments.  Ryoga had looked so hurt.  She closed her eyes, feeling guilt well inside her.  How could she have thought for even an instant that Ryoga had kept his secret from her to be mean?  Obviously there were a lot of things they would have to work out, and there were a lot of things that still had her confused, but it was a relief to know that her first suspicions were untrue.  Given what she'd discovered in the meantime, she felt rather bad for having had them in the first place.  She was also surprised she hadn't figured it out sooner, despite the frequent chaos in her life.

Even so, she still felt a stirring of anger towards the Lost Boy.  He'd always seemed so honest…then again, the whole 'P-chan' situation couldn't really be classified as an actual lie, it wasn't as though she'd ever gone up to Ryoga and asked if he was P-chan or anything.  But by not saying anything at all, it was almost a lie.  Akane could understand him maybe wanting to keep his curse a secret in general at the very beginning; it didn't seem like one of those things you'd want a lot of people to know about.  But they'd become friends.  

So for heaven's sake, why didn't the boy just tell her?  He hadn't really caused any harm, and it wasn't like she would've gotten mad or anything…

But that's what I did, Akane realized.  When he did tell me, that's exactly what I did.  I yelled and shouted and hit him.  He probably thinks I hate him now, what else could he possibly think?  He probably guessed how I'd react, no wonder he didn't say anything.  Even if he'd wanted to tell me, he was probably too afraid to actually do it because he knew something like this would happen…

Akane shook her head, fighting back tears.  Was that it?  Was she so terrible that he'd been afraid to tell her, afraid because he thought there was no possibility that she would understand?  No one wanted to be hated, and Ryoga hardly had anyone as it was.

That thought hurt more than the deception itself.  One of her close friends, and he perceived her as capable of being unforgiving and hateful.  She supposed that, given the situation, anyone could be afraid that someone might become that way…but it was still painful to accept.  

Akane wiped at her eyes.  This was all so confusing.  She couldn't handle it all at once; it was far too complex for that.  She had to talk to Ranma and Ryoga, and make them explain about Ryoga's curse.  She had to consider this most recent development in her relationship with the Lost Boy, and try to organize her thoughts and feelings on that.  She had to talk to him, to come to terms with her anger and the hurt she was feeling, but she also had to make it clear that she didn't hate him and that she'd try to understand.  But all those things were secondary.  Right now, what she needed to do the most was to help him through the ordeal he must be going through.  In a way, she supposed she'd deceived him as well—she hadn't told him the truth anymore than Ranma had, hadn't even tried until it was too late.  Instead of acting like a true friend, she'd let her annoyance and jealousy get in the way, and now he was hurting.  She had to fix this…

Of course, that would be a lot easier to do if she knew where he was.

Akane stood up resolutely.  She had to find him.

*

Ukyo sighed as she scraped another plateful of untouched okonomiyaki into the trashcan.  She hadn't slept very much the night before—she'd been too preoccupied with worrying that Ryoga might try to slip out while she was off in her own personal dreamland.  He hadn't, fortunately, but he obviously wasn't any better off this morning.  He'd taken a shower before really letting Ukyo get a good look at him, but it was still clear that he'd spent much of the remainder of the night awake.  He'd also insisted he wasn't hungry again, and she'd insisted that he try to eat something again.  At least he'd managed to pick up the chopsticks before making a mad dash for the bathroom this time.  With any luck, she'd be able to get a mouthful in him by dinner.

The semi-sarcastic thought did little to cheer Ukyo up.  She was getting a bad feeling that this was going to be even more serious than she'd originally counted on.  This physical reaction to what had happened the previous day was making her nervous, but Ryoga was even less talkative this morning than he'd been last night.  She also knew he was wondering why she was even bothering—after all, he'd just taken an involuntary refresher course on all the times she'd hit him, insulted him, and tangled him up in some self-serving plot or another.  Ukyo had a feeling he was probably a touch more jaded now than he'd been before losing his memory.  To him, her present concern probably seemed petty at best.  

The truth was that she really _was_ concerned, not just because of the situation, but also because—much as she didn't want to admit it—she did consider him a friend.  Despite being stubborn, naïve, and irritating on due occasion, Ryoga was probably one of the nicer people she'd run across in her life.  It was only now that she was realizing that she'd taken advantage of that in all the wrong ways.  

Ukyo set the plate in the sink and went to the living room.  Ryoga was sitting where she'd left him, his knees drawn against his chest.  He was dressed in his own clothes again, but the paleness of his face and the way he was leaning, slumped sideways against the front of the couch, made him seem distinctly unlike himself.  He looked drained, wilted even, with no visible sign of his usual strength.  

It was upsetting to see him like this, but Ukyo was determined not to show distress while he was in this condition.  She knelt down beside him.  "Do you feel any better, Sugar?" she asked him carefully.  She knew it was a ridiculous question, but she had to start somewhere.  "I really think you should try to eat again.  I could make some rice or something, maybe it won't upset your stomach."

Ryoga continued to stare at the carpet.  "No," he said.

Ukyo continued to look at him.  "Are you sure?" she prodded gently.  Ryoga remained still for a moment, then squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.  

"Alright," Ukyo said.  She wondered if she could convince him to lie down.  If she couldn't get him to eat, maybe she could at least get him to sleep some more.  Ukyo looked at him for a long moment before speaking again.  "Ryoga-honey," she said finally, "I have to tell everyone you're here.  If I don't let them know, they'll just get more worked up."  Ryoga didn't reply, but simply closed his eyes again, his expression pained.  Ukyo saw his shoulders tremble, and realized that he was on the verge of losing it.

"Hey, it doesn't mean you have to talk to anyone or anything," she added quickly.  He still didn't respond, leaving Ukyo at something of a loss.  She couldn't really know the full extent of what he was going through, and he didn't seem keen on enlightening her.  But she couldn't just let him stay like this.

"Ryoga," Ukyo said.  "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

Ryoga opened his eyes, their normal deep hazel color appearing dulled.  "What's wrong?" he said, his voice faint.  "I remembered…that's what's wrong."

"Why is that wrong?" Ukyo asked gently. 

The Lost Boy swallowed hard and looked away.  "Because it just is."

Ukyo regarded him carefully, her blue eyes compassionate.  "Look, if this is over Akane, you don't have to worry.  She doesn't hate you or anything.  I don't think she's mad really, even."  

"R-right," Ryoga stammered bitterly.

"I mean it," Ukyo said.  "She was the first to want to find you."  She saw him clench his fists, and regretted bringing up the subject of the other girl.  "Sugar, I understand that you're upset over what happened, and-" 

"That's not it!" Ryoga interrupted, his voice raw.  "This might be news to you, but my life didn't start when Ranma came back here!  And I didn't just forget what's happened since then!  I forgot damn near everything!  _Everything!  _When I woke up, the only thing I knew for sure was my name.  Anything else was just a blur…I thought that the things I'd forgotten were things I'd want remember, but it didn't work out that way!"

Ukyo blinked, startled by both the sudden outburst and his words.  "But…you can't mean that …you _wouldn't _want to remember?"

_"Yes!" _Ryoga cried.  His eyes brightened with unshed tears.  "Don't you get it?  I forgot about the curse, I forgot about getting lost!  I forgot about my family!  I forgot about Akane and Ranma and everyone else here!  I forgot about being alone all the time!"  He turned away.  "I forgot…" he whispered.  "I forgot that I hate my life…" 

Ukyo stared at him, her expression one of sheer astonishment.  "Ryoga…" she breathed.  "You don't…you don't mean that.  It can't all have been bad, at least not before the curse…?"

Ryoga glanced up at her again.  "I didn't have what you would call a happy childhood, Ukyo," he told her.  He lowered his eyes, staring at a spot of nothingness.  "Do you have any idea what it's like to be six, and to have your parents walk out the door without you and not come back for two months?  Or to be lost in the middle of a city, at night, when you're only nine?"  Ukyo stayed silent.  "I do," Ryoga continued.  "I tried hard not to think about things like that before, and I guess it almost made it seem like they never happened, after a while.  But now I know they did…"

Ukyo looked at him silently for a few moments, uncertain as to what she should say.  "Ryoga…" she began tentatively, "listen to me.  I know it must be hard right now, and I wish Ranma hadn't done what he did.  But I…I want to help you.  I should've said something before, I know, and I-"

"Stop it," Ryoga interrupted her.  His whole body was tensed, his voice strained.  "Just stop it, I don't want to hear it."

Ukyo stared at him, first confused, then angry.  She managed to swallow back the words that immediately came to mind—something along the lines of 'I was just trying to help, you jackass' probably wouldn't go over so well at the present moment.  Then she realized she felt hurt, too.  It wasn't like him to reject her so flatly and with such disregard.

_He's worse off than you are,_ her conscience informed her.  All things considered, was it really any surprise that he didn't want to hear some half-sincere excuses and attempts at apology?  Ukyo sighed inwardly, and instead of swearing at him, she managed a quiet "Ok," then climbed to her feet.

Ukyo left him in the living room and meandered down the hall and back into the kitchen, unsure of what to do.  She'd have to talk to Shampoo soon, and make the hussy tell her exactly what the hell that powder of hers had done.  It was her fault Ryoga was like this, hers and that obsessive bird-brained suitor that played her shadow—if they hadn't come along and screwed things up, Ukyo was sure Ryoga wouldn't be taking this so hard.  Ranma said he'd been about to confess before they'd shown up; maybe if he'd been able to do that, the shock of it all wouldn't have been so bad…

A sudden knocking at the door jolted her from her thoughts.  She jumped slightly, not expecting it, then ran down the steps to see who it was.

"Oh, Akane.  Hi."

"Hi," the other girl said, a little breathlessly.  "I was going to go look for Ryoga again, will you come with me?" 

"I was—what are you doing with that?" Ukyo asked, noticing the brown backpack lying at Akane's feet.

Akane followed the other girl's gaze.  "Oh.  Ranma insisted that I take it when I left.  I don't know why-"

"He didn't tell you?" Ukyo said.

Akane blinked.  "Tell me what?"

"There's no need to look.  Ryoga's here."

Akane's eyes widened in surprise.  "He's here?"

"Yes," Ukyo sighed.  "I found him last night, after everyone went home.  I'm sorry I didn't call then, but it was late.  Then Ranchan showed up, and I figured he would tell you…"

"Oh, I'm so glad you found him," Akane said, her voice full of relief.  "Is he Ok?"

Ukyo pushed some of her hair over her shoulder.  "He's…well, no," she said finally.  "I mean, he's Ok, but he's…upset."

The relief in Akane's eyes was washed away by fresh concern.  "I can understand that," she said.  She remembered how her last interaction with Ryoga had gone.  "I guess that means he… probably doesn't want to see me…"

Ukyo rushed to clarify things.  "No, it's—it's not like that, it's just…I mean, I don't think it's really personal at this point, you know?  Well, I guess it _is,_ but not…it's not like it's just you, it's everything."  She sighed again.  "Look, I just…let me try to smooth things over a little more, Ok?"

Akane nodded, though her expression remained morose.  "I understand," she said.  "Just…if he brings it up or anything, could you tell him that I don't…I mean, I'm not…"

"You're not mad?" Ukyo suggested.

Akane frowned.  "I guess I am, but it's not for what he probably thinks.  I just wish he'd told me before is all.  It's not even the curse thing, not really, you know?  It's more like…the principle of it."

"Yeah, I gotcha," Ukyo said, smiling slightly.  "I know it must've been a shock in the beginning, but I thought you'd understand."  Then her expression grew serious again.  "Do you think you could tell the…others that he's here?"

"Sure, I guess," Akane replied.  She picked up Ryoga's pack and handed it to Ukyo.  "I'd like to know what was going on with that powder Shampoo had, anyway."  She glanced back up and blinked, and Ukyo realized a scowl had slid onto her own face.  "I guess you'd like to know too, huh?" Akane asked.

"Let's just say I'm more than curious." Ukyo replied tightly.

Akane tipped her head to the side.  "I'll let you know what we find out.  I'll see you later, Ok?"

"Yeah.  Bye, Akane," Ukyo answered, stepping back to shut the door.  She went back up the stairs, and decided to see how Ryoga was faring.  

She found him still sitting by the couch, but his eyes were closed and he was leaning against it more heavily than he had been before.  "Sugar?" she said questioningly.  He didn't open his eyes.  Relieved that he was asleep again, Ukyo got a blanket from her bedroom and tucked it around his shoulders.  Then she returned to the kitchen to think and wait.

*

Atop the roof of the Tendo Dojo, Ranma again sat brooding over recent events.  Akane had left late in the morning, presumably to go look for Ryoga again.  Ranma had told her to take Ryoga's pack with her, even though she hadn't said anything to him about where she was going.  He wasn't all that surprised—no one had been saying much of anything to him of late.  Even his father had remained in panda form this morning, apparently deciding that the television set was more called for than their regular spar, and Kasumi's usual cheerful greeting as he'd entered the family room had sounded a little strained behind her smile.  

Being avoided was worse than being confronted, Ranma had decided, but he wasn't about to try and attract their attention.  He had a feeling that sooner or later, something was going to break—he wasn't sure what, but he could sense that a change was coming.  The underlying tensions between himself and many of the others were growing thin, and things that had always been glossed over in the past were not going to remain that way for much longer.

The blue-eyed boy rocked backwards slightly, stretching the muscles in his tensed shoulders.  He felt a cold, heavy knot of negativity in his stomach, and he wondered fleetingly if he'd be able to do a Shi-shi Hokodan.  Not one of Ryoga's caliber, of course, but maybe something more than the fizzles and minor bursts that were the most he'd been able to do back when he'd been trying to learn the technique himself.

Ranma's thoughts immediately drifted back to that period in time.  It had resulted in another one of his all-outs with Ryoga, and he counted it as a victory on his part…but in reality, he knew it had been a feeble one at best.  He remembered how furious he'd been with the Lost Boy throughout much of it, and felt his stomach turn.  Ryoga hadn't really done anything wrong even, he'd simply learned a new technique.  He'd even been willing to show it to him, instead of diving right into a defined battle as one of his other rivals might have.  Yet Ranma hadn't been able to take it, just because Ryoga had beaten him while practicing.  He'd acted like a spoiled child, demanding to have it performed for him again and again, then resorted to lies and deception in an attempt to essentially steal Ryoga's move.  Adapting it into the Moko Takabisha was a more acceptable maneuver, but that hadn't worked so well once the real battle began.  So what had he done?  Again, resorted to lies, using petty words to win instead of honest skill.  Knowing that he was helping to push another human being into a despair so deep that it took away the will to live.  Purposely doing so, just because he couldn't stand to lose.  These hadn't  been the actions of an honorable martial artist, they had been the pathetic efforts of a coward who placed pride above all, even at the possible expense of others.  Survival at all cost—it might be a tenet of the School, but that was meant for true combat, when fighting an enemy who meant to kill or do serious harm, not for a match against a familiar rival and friend.  Ryoga had deserved the victory more than he had, but instead of letting the Lost Boy have a chance to gain an ounce of self-confidence, Ranma had done all he could to prevent it.  And for what?  What had been at stake for him?  Pride?  Pride he shouldn't have even felt, considering what he'd done to avoid defeat?  Pride that could've easily been restored through a rematch that Ryoga would have been almost certain to agree to after Ranma had perfected a counter-move?  Pride, like that which Ryoga had given up in order to help him learn the Hiryu Shoten-hah?  Was that all?

It had been, at least at those times.  The Shi-shi Hokodan, the Breaking Point…he'd used cheap tricks, like those he so ridiculed his father for using.  How hypocritical had it been of him to let so much of what he detested in Genma Saotome to rub off on himself?  And yet Ryoga had accepted it all, considered the outcomes as defeats and gone off to train so he could try again later, almost always keeping it fair.  That was why he refused to fight Ranma when the pigtailed boy was under the influence of Happosai's moxibustion, and had refused to accept victory when he had the Mark of the Gods—it had been unfair.  Ranma hadn't bothered to return the civility.  He'd been taught that honor existed under a different set of terms—mainly winning.  Therefore, it was really no surprise that he judged himself almost solely in terms of just that.  Too much exposure to this system of values during his younger years had left it firmly ingrained in him, and although Ranma knew it was foolish to put so much stock in one single, albeit major, facet of his life, he couldn't shake the idea.  It didn't help any that those around him judged mostly on that basis as well, which only served to further reinforce the concept that he was only worth what he won—what he won, and how many girls he had chasing after him at any given time.

Ranma heaved a sigh.  It didn't make any difference in the current situation.  To try and explain any of this to Ryoga would only add to the overall point that he'd made the Lost Boy a victim of his own insecurities.  That was what it all really came down to, he supposed.  Admitting to anyone that he had such insecurities wasn't going to be easy, trying to convincingly explain it as his reason for doing what he'd done when Ryoga had lost his memory was going to be a near-impossibility.  If he got the chance to talk to Ryoga, he was going to have to make it good.  Ranma figured he was only going to have one shot at this.

Of course, it would probably help if he wasn't going up against one of the more impossible people in the world.  Ranma gritted his teeth.  If Ryoga didn't always have to think the absolute worst of him, this wouldn't be nearly as touchy a situation as it currently was.  The damn idiot was almost as bad as Akane—always assuming, always blaming, never giving Ranma a chance to explain anything.  Ranma knew that Ryoga had missed out on a lot of the social and emotional training that most people took for granted, but it was still frustrating to deal with someone who never lightened the hell up.  The blue-eyed boy scowled slightly.  If Ryoga considered half the things that had happened between them as the accidents that they were instead of taking everything so damn personally…  There had been many a time during the Lost Boy's offended tirades when Ranma had resisted the urge to smack him and say _"Shut the hell up and listen!"_  All that stopped him was the knowledge that it probably wouldn't do any good—usually, once Ryoga had his mind set on something, it was practically carved in stone.

"Jerk," Ranma muttered under his breath.  "Goddamn jerk…"  His frown deepened, though he knew he wasn't exactly being fair.  Resentment towards the wandering martial artist wasn't likely to help anyway.  Still, he wondered what could even come of it all.  At best, what did he have to gain?  Ryoga, back to the way he normally was—angry with him all the time, constantly wanting to fight and thinking Ranma was a jerk and a pervert?  

Ranma was surprised to feel the sharp stab of hurt that the notion carried with it.  It had only been a week, but even those few short days had been enough time for him to realize how much he needed someone to listen to him.  Someone who wanted to be around him just for who he was.  Someone who valued him for something more than his strength and skill.  Someone who he could talk to without having to censor himself.  Someone who at least made an attempt to understand…

Ranma thought of Akane, always surrounded by her sisters and friends, and the people he knew at school, like Hiroshi and Daisuke.  People who had known each other for years.  People who had grown up together.  Ranma felt a wave of envy flow through him, bright and hot.  They didn't know what it was like to have been denied something so simple.  They hadn't spent a decade of their lives wandering around, not staying in any one place for more than a year or two, if even that long.  He'd worked his way into getting accepted well enough, but it was only into the outer edges of their social circles.  The inside, where the barriers and limitations were few, was a place he wasn't allowed.  They spoke to him, but only of casual topics.  They were interested, but only in the things that happened to him—not what he thought or felt.  They liked him, but not enough to make an attempt to get to know him too well.  He knew what they thought of him, how they viewed him, what they said about him when they thought he wasn't around to hear.  Nice enough guy, but kind of strange.  Ok to hang out with, until the fiancées and other weirdoes start showing up.  Alright to talk to, so long as it's nothing really important.  Interesting to be around, but don't want to get too involved.  Has some sort of weird curse or something, probably isn't completely right in the head.  Wouldn't put much past him.  Have to watch it a little when he's around, never know what's going to happen.  All in all, he's Ok.  Yeah, that's it—he's alright, has some neat stories to tell, can do some cool stuff, fun to be with, nice enough and all…but he's not one of _us_.

A single tear slid down his cheek before Ranma could stop it.  He brushed it away angrily, as though offended by its presence.  He was _not_ going to cry over this.  This was one of the things he'd told himself he didn't care about long ago.  So what if he was always the loner?  It kept him from having more responsibilities than he already had, it was probably better this way.  So what if his friends were little more than people to talk about things like homework and mess around with outside at gym class and sit with at lunchtime?  So what if his other friends were a group of girls, each of which was tied to him through an engagement?  He didn't need more than that.  He didn't care.  He couldn't miss what he'd never had…

Except now, he _had_ had it.  It hadn't lasted long, but he'd had it.  

Which meant he could miss it now, too.

Ranma sighed again.  Sitting here feeling sorry for himself yet again wasn't going to get him far.  And if whatever he said to Ryoga did nothing more than return things to something close to the norm, then…well, having that was certainly a few steps above being hated.  

Not there was any guarantee that it would even accomplish that.  Ranma lingered on the thought, wondering what this entailed.  Ryoga had followed him to China and back supposedly because he'd wanted revenge.  It was true that the Lost Boy had seemed to abandon that concept almost immediately and settled for fighting and dealing with his crush on Akane instead.  But the stakes were high again—would Ryoga start pursuing a similar course of action?

Ranma considered for a moment, then decided against it.  Ryoga's reasons back then had been born of anger, and anger allowed him to fight.  This time, it had been different.  Ranma had seen the pain in his eyes.

It was true that Ryoga could be hurt by almost anything that had even the slightest bit of meanness in it, but it was always small enough to be overpowered by the ensuing anger.  And there _had_ been anger this time, fury even, but it had been short-lived and minimal, a brief flicker of flame.  This time, the pain had overwhelmed.  With anger, Ryoga could fight, but with pain…he could only run.

Yet…he had started a Shi-shi Hokodan.  That attack could be powered by any heavy emotion—anger, hurt, anything that was an element of depression.  Under the circumstances, it certainly would've worked.  There had been other people around, but none so close to them as to be hurt by a blast aimed at Ranma.

So why had Ryoga stopped?

Ranma lifted his head and glanced in the direction of Ukyo's.  Now he had another unanswered question on his mind.

Author's Notes:  

Who says Ryoga's the only one who angsts?  Ranma needs some angst time, too.  And someone had to write him as coming down on himself for the Shi-shi Hokodan thing.  Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but for fuck's sake, you don't go deliberately pushing your pals into losing their will to live just so you can win a goddamn fight.  You just don't.  It doesn't follow the basic principles of being a semi-decent human being.  So…there.


	9. Part 9

Disclaimer:  Ranma ½ belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.  And why, after all this time, have I not just done a blanket disclaimer somewhere so I don't have to type these things over and over again?  Whee.

Warning:  Remember the angst I warned you about last time?  Well, it hasn't gone away.

Sit and stare into a dusty window

An empty face stares back at me and cries

My vulnerability 

Rushes up to me

And I'm left here

The rebel without a cause

And the deeper I delve into

The consciousness of me and you

The harder it gets

I need to close my eyes

~Erasure, "Piano Song"

_He was lost somewhere—it was dense and damp, like a jungle_._  China, he'd still been in China then_._  But it was after…  It started to rain, and he was still unused to having to take immediate refuge from something as simple as a little shower_._  The sensation of the change was the same—it felt like he was being picked up and whirled away to somewhere else in an instant-long rush, only to open his eyes and find himself transformed, trapped in a curse of a body…_

_Heating up water would be useless until the rain stopped or he found cover; he wasn't strong enough to open his umbrella like this_._  He scrambled on top of his pack, hoping for a better view of the area, when he heard something_._  It was too loud to be the sound of the rain on the leaves…he turned to his right and glimpsed a form moving stealthily in the underbrush_._  A large form…_

_He had only a brief instant to think about what to do before a huge, furred animal burst out of the bushes_._  It was a wildcat; a leopard of some sort probably, the schooled part of his mind informed him_._  A predator…_

_It lunged for him, jaws snapping, claws extended_._  He bounced backwards as the thing landed on his pack, it's large paws spread where he'd been standing an instant before_._  He turned and ran, dismayed at how little ground he could cover despite the speed at which he moved his body_._  He could hear it tearing through the foliage behind him, could feel the vibrations in the ground beneath his feet as it pounded after him_. _ He glanced over his shoulder in time to see it leaping for him, its feline eyes gleaming with anticipation_._  He veered wildly to the right as it crashed down next to him_._  In desperation, he extended his sprint into bounds, trying to gain as much distance as he could—he knew he wouldn't be able to keep this sort of pace up for long, a piglet's body was not well-equipped for jumping_._  He sprang off the sides of trees, rocks, anything in his path, hoping he could lose his fanged pursuer in his haphazard dash_._  But no matter what he did, it stayed right behind, its front paws nearly brushing his heels_._  Its hot breath touched his neck, and he wondered if he was going to die_.__

Ryoga forced his eyes open, letting in the brightness of the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows.  It was Ukyo's living room that he was in, not a dank jungle in China.  The room was quiet, silent but for the beating of his heart.  No sound of leaves and brush being torn asunder.  No snapping of sticks as they broke beneath the weight of a determined hunter.  There was nothing behind him, save for a smooth wall with its single window.  No clawed nightmare chasing after him with bright, eager eyes…

But it hadn't been a nightmare.  It had been real.

Ryoga shuddered.  That had been years ago when it happened, and he hadn't thought of it since.  Not until now, not really.  With his lifestyle, he couldn't afford to become phobic of animals, whether they were the kind that chased him or not.  And he hadn't allowed himself to.  Instead, he'd transformed the experience into a careful, harmless package that could be brought to mind when he was exposed to any sort of suggestive trigger, from a housecat to the rare sight of a lynx in the woods.

_Cats are nice animals,_ he'd told himself.  _Predators, though—need to be careful_._  It's not their fault they're like that…_

Ryoga took a deep breath, trying to slow his heartbeat and relieve the nervous tension in his muscles.  He'd lived—it hadn't caught him.  A sturdy hollow log had been his salvation, he'd been nearly spent, but it had appeared just in time.  The cat's massive paws were too large to fit into the hole he dove through, and despite the decay and dampness, the wood proved too strong for it to bother with beyond a few annoyed digs with its claws.  He'd spent the night there, too terrified to think of stepping out until the sun was up and the majority of carnivorous creatures had retired to their dens.  He hadn't slept—he'd been too afraid that his current shelter belonged to some other jungle denizen that might be no friendlier, albeit smaller, than the thing that he had so narrowly escaped.  It had taken him over an hour to find his pack once dawn arrived, even though senses useful for tracking were usually heightened as a piglet.  Every stir of the wind, every movement of a leaf or branch or blade of grass caused him to start in desperate fright.  The sense of relief he felt when he changed back had been multiplied unimaginably, yet even after he had returned to his natural form he found himself barely able to quell the threatening panic he knew was trying to break loose as the day wore on.  At one point, all he could do was lean against a tree, crying hopelessly out of fear and exhaustion, he was only fifteen then; he hadn't found his way out of the accursed, swampy forest, and the sun was readying to set.  He'd run towards it, entertaining the wild notion that if he could just move fast enough he could catch up with the sun, and it wouldn't get dark.  Finally, luck seemed to be on his side—by heading west, he'd come to the foot of a hill that had marked the end of the damp, wooded terrain he'd been trapped in.  He'd reached the flat plain of grass at the top just as the first stars were beginning to emerge against the newly cloud-cleared sky, and it was there that he finally felt the bonds of fear loosening their hold.  

And he had known that they would have to stay that way, or he would never make it home again.  So he began to think about cats—big ones, small ones, wild ones, pets…he told himself how much he liked them, listed any good quality he could think of; beauty, strength, intelligence, anything.  Slowly, it became solidified into a simple strand of thoughts that could be repeated whenever was necessary:  he liked cats, they were nice animals, nothing to be afraid of, he just had to be careful of some of them, just like anything else…  In the process of cutting his fear down to manageable levels, the memory of that experience had slowly begun to unravel, lost amidst the straightforward reasoning he forced himself to accept in its place until it almost didn't exist anymore.  And it had remained that way for the past few years, carefully buried. 

Buried, but not forgotten.

Thankfully, becoming more accustomed to his curse and how to deal with it had helped to ease many of the fears Ryoga had felt so strongly back then.  He wasn't so helpless anymore.  Even so, that didn't mean he'd ever disregard the dangers added to his existence courtesy of Jusenkyo completely.  And now, now that he fully remembered what had happened to produce the lingering hint of nervousness that lurked behind his patent reaction to such creatures, he could feel the old terror trying to claw its way back into his consciousness.  Before, if he'd wondered what had happened between his childhood affection for animals and the development of the careful mental response in his adolescence, something in the back of his mind had always rushed forth quietly to cover it over, assuring him that it wasn't important.  That old defense had been broken by Shampoo's powder, and now he was…

An image of Shampoo in her cursed form sprang to mind, and he shuddered again.  __

_Stop it, _Ryoga ordered himself sharply.  This was getting out of hand, housecats didn't even bring to mind their larger cousins anymore, being that they weren't really a threat to him even his cursed form.  _There's no reason to be afraid of them, _he reminded himself.  _They can't hurt me, and they wouldn't even bother to, not so long as I don't get wet_._  That almost never happens anymore when I'm out there, that's why I have an umbrella and carry hot water when I can_._  And there aren't any big ones like that here, except for zoos, and that's different_._  Besides, Shampoo isn't a cat, she's a human being, it's just a curse_._  A curse that turns her into a little cat, it's not like she'd ever…_

Another unpleasant memory took the opportunity to resurface, a memory of a young woman with violet-blue hair who had tried to…

"It was nothing," Ryoga muttered under his breath.  "She didn't even try to cook me, really, not like the time…no, it was alright, hot water changes me back…"

_Steam rose into his eyes from the massive pot of boiling water beneath him_._  His ankle hurt, but that didn't seem so important as the fact that he wasn't human anymore—a piglet, the spring he'd fallen into had turned him into a piglet, it had been cursed, that's what the man had said_._  The man was the guide, couldn't he tell that he wasn't really a piglet?  He tried to tell him, tried to get his attention_._  He strained to pull his head up to see where the guide was, if he had heard_._  He had to find a way to tell them he wasn't…  _

_A knife_. _ The man was carrying a knife, a knife that would've looked big even had he been normal_._  He began to feel faint, this couldn't be happening, it just couldn't…the man was coming nearer, saying something, what was he saying?  The knife was used to cut the rope_._  The bandana, he was being held by it, he struggled and bwee'd desperately, why didn't the bandana clue the man in?  The guide started talking about the Spring, yes, that was it, he'd fallen into that Spring, he wasn't really a piglet, he didn't want to be cut up, he didn't want to be boiled alive, why wouldn't they listen?!  _

_It was hot, searing hot, it hurt, he couldn't breathe, it hurt it hurt this couldn't be happening no…_

 "…the matter?"  

Ryoga heard a worried voice cut through the haze, but it sounded far away, too far away to help him…

*

Elder Cologne, one of the matriarchs of the Joketsuzoku tribe, stood in the back room of a small restaurant in Nerima, Japan, and sighed.

Before her sat four young people, each of which was sending a venomous glare at one of the others.  In China, she had often been responsible for training warriors.  It had been a demanding, though satisfying, task.  But as she was discovering, trying to settle a bout of name-calling amidst four bad-tempered teenagers was, in many ways, somewhat more of a challenge.  

"Are we finished now?" she asked, eyeing the small group sitting around the table.  Mousse and Ranma, already nursing bumps on their heads, grumbled an unintelligible reply.  Akane continued to scowl, and Shampoo hmph'd under her breath.  

Cologne refrained from sighing again as she realized this was probably the best she could hope for.  "Alright, then," she said.  "Now, Son-in-Law, what did you tell Ryoga about his past before he regained his memory?"

"…" Ranma muttered.

"Speak up," Cologne ordered.

The pigtailed boy scowled.  "Nothing, really.  Except for his curse."

Across from him, Mousse rose out of his seat.  "You didn't tell him _anything?" _he asked incredulously.  "What kind of a jerk are you?"

"Shut up, Duck-Boy!" Ranma snapped.  "Where do you get off sayin' anything?  It ain't like you woulda told him nothin' but a load of-"

"Enough," Cologne said warningly, her patience thin.  "This may make things even worse than I'd expected."

"Yeah, great," Ranma said, far too exasperated to listen to the old Amazon's usual half-cryptic speech.  "Just tell us what the hell that crap did already, would ya?"

The old Amazon frowned.  Her future son-in-law was certainly a talented martial artist, and was generally of good nature, but he could be such a brat at times.  "That powder was the traditional Amazon memory-restorer.  It was made mostly to counteract the effects of other such potions and techniques dealing with memory, such as the shiatsu Shampoo has already taken the liberty to show you.  It happens to be very effective for almost all cases of amnesia and memory loss, no matter how they were brought about.  Of course, basic amnesia almost always goes away naturally, but in some cases it doesn't, or it may take an extended period of time.  So on rare occasions, it is used for someone who has suffered a mishap such as Ryoga's."

The scowl that had long ago settled itself on Ranma's features deepened.  "Thanks for the history lesson, but we already know that part."

Cologne ignored him.  "As I was saying, it is sometimes used for a case similar to Ryoga's.  But it is only done rarely, for the potion's effects can be harmful as well as curative."

"Harmful?  What do you mean, _harmful?_  You knew that beforehand, and you used it on Ryoga _anyway?"_ Akane demanded.

"He no supposed to get so much," Shampoo said, crossing her arms over her chest.  "Shampoo no know stupid Mousse switch vials," she added, shooting a glare in the direction of the white-robed young man.

"So what does that mean?" Ranma wanted to know.

Cologne blinked slowly.  "It means that Ryoga has remembered too much."

"What?" the pigtailed boy said flatly.  "How can he remember too much of stuff he already knew?  He woulda remembered everything anyway, right?"

"Not exactly," Cologne said.  "The problem with this particular potion is that it is…almost too good at what it does.  It does not simply bring back a person's recent past or their most conscious memories.  It gives them _all _their memories back."

Ranma blinked twice.  "What's so bad about that?"

"Think of it this way, Son-in-Law," Cologne explained.  "The powder has the strength to bring back all the memories a person ever had.  Not just the last ones, or the important ones, but all of them.  Imagine it—forgetting everything, every moment of your entire life—and then getting all of it back.  Not just the recent past, but the most distant past as well.  Not just the favorite recollections, but also the unpleasant ones.  Not just things you want to remember, but things you might've wanted to stay forgotten.  Things that your mind worked hard to bury, to the point that you probably didn't know they'd ever happened.  It all comes back."

It took a moment for those seated at the table to process this.  Shampoo let out a soft, "Aiyah."  Finally, Ranma looked up.  

"So…what you're sayin' is that…Ryoga remembered everything that had happened to him—seventeen years worth of stuff, all at once?"

"Yes," Cologne replied.  "Normally, small amounts of the powder would be given over a period of time, allowing the person to regain their memories in layers, therefore reducing the shock.  Also…that way, those memories that had been pushed to the deepest recesses of the mind are not so likely to be brought back."

"But you gave it to Ryoga all at once," Akane said.  

Ranma frowned.  "So…?"

Cologne shrugged regretfully.  "So, your friend's just been through a very rude awakening, the likes of which you cannot possibly imagine.  I would also guess that considering the tricks that you pulled, he's probably feeling rather upset.  And _that,_" she said, "has no instant cure."

*

Ukyo drummed her fingers against the countertop idly, wondering what to do as the later hours of the afternoon began to set in.  She hoped that Akane would come back today so she could hear the details of this most recent Amazon Special's effects.  Ryoga's state was really starting to worry her.  Ukyo could understand him being upset over the thing with Akane and what Ranma had done, and she supposed that getting his memory back all of a sudden might've been a little scary.  Other than that, she wasn't sure if the way he was acting was a heightening of his usual overemotional ways, or if it was a product of something else.

Speaking of which, she hadn't checked on him in a while.  Ukyo wondered if he was still asleep as she went down the hallway.  Once in the living room, she found him sitting curled in a ball.  The blanket had slipped down off his shoulders, and he was wearing a vacant expression on his face as he stared ahead at nothing.  The sight concerned her—he'd been sitting in the position before, but he hadn't looked so…distant.  

"Ryoga?" Ukyo said nervously, kneeling down next to him.  The Lost Boy didn't respond—in fact, he didn't even seem to know she was there.  "Ryoga," she repeated, louder this time.  He still didn't reply.  Ukyo was about to say something else when she heard him start talking under his breath.  She leaned forward, thinking he was finally answering her.  It was kind of strange, though, he was speaking so quietly and rapidly…

"…try to cook me, really, not like the time…no, it was alright, hot water changes me back…"

Ukyo drew back, startled.  "Ryoga?" she said again, and he fell silent.  "Sugar, what is it?"  She was starting to feel the first hints of real concern rising in her.  What did all this mean?  What was he talking about?  Why wouldn't he answer her?  She thought about how he'd been sick earlier, and wondered if he was really coming down with something instead of just suffering from too much stress as she'd originally thought.  Cautiously, she brushed a hand across his forehead, wondering if he was growing delirious from a fever.  But instead of feeling hot, he actually felt rather cool.  

Now Ukyo was completely puzzled.  Without thinking about it, she took him by the shoulders and shook him slightly.  "What's the matter?  Ryoga…Ryoga!"

The pitch of her voice seemed to finally yank him into realization, for he jerked his head up to look up at her, his eyes clearing.  He seemed surprised to find her there.  "Ukyo?" he questioned softly, unsure what to make of her expression.  She simply stared at him, a mixture a concern and consternation in her eyes.  

"Ryoga," she said finally, "what…what just happened?"

The Lost Boy looked at her, trying to think of something to say.  Then he dropped his gaze to his arms and rubbed at them furiously for a second, trying to rid himself of the burning sensation that had set in.  "I…I don't know…" he mumbled.

Ukyo frowned at the gesture.  "Are you cold?" she asked him, mistaking the movement for one intended to warm.

Ryoga's eyes seemed to glaze over again.  "Cold…no.  It—it was hot..."

Ukyo's frown shifted to a look of confusion.  "_What_ was hot?"

Ryoga blinked, not understanding.  Then he shook his head, trying to clear it of the last lingering threads of the memory.  "N-nothing," he said.  "Nothing was."  Dimly, he remembered hearing something before, from down the hall.  There was something important about that, something he meant to ask about…  

"The door," he said.  "Someone knocked on the door, didn't they?"

Ukyo sat back on her heels, considering.  Obviously, Ryoga hadn't been sleeping very heavily.  "Yeah," she replied, a little reluctantly.  "Akane came over.  She wanted to..."

It took her half an instant to realize that had been a mistake.  Ryoga blanched visibly, his dark eyes going wide.  "A-Akane?" he breathed, his voice full of dismay.

Ukyo rushed to try and fix the upset she'd inadvertently created.  "No, Sugar, it's alright, she's not really mad at you," she said quickly, but the words were lost on him.

The name rang through Ryoga's head, a distant echo accompanied by a soft hum that grew increasingly louder.  

Akane…Akane knew…

…lies…all lies…his, theirs…and Ranma's…

Ryoga practically leapt to his feet, his mind reeling.  Ukyo tipped back in surprise, then followed suit as she saw his face go whiter still.  "Ryoga?" she said fretfully, stepping in front of him.  "What-"

"No, I—ugh," he gasped, pressing a hand over his mouth as he pushed past her and darted down the hall.

Ukyo watched him go, her fists clenching unconsciously.  At least he knew where the bathroom was.  It was a good thing she'd taught him to count the doors long ago.  She leaned against the wall, and sighed in frustration.

Things didn't seem to be looking up.

*

Ranma was silent as Akane walked alongside him on their way home from the Cat Café.  The sun was rapidly lowering in the sky, its rays consequently shifting from yellow to golden as it moved closer to the horizon.  Akane blinked as a wayward beam of light reflected off of something on the street, creating a tiny star-shaped glare.  He hadn't said much of anything to her on the way there, either.  

Akane felt tense at the silence, but Ranma seemed detached from it.  He was keeping his face turned away from her, as though there was something exceptional to see on his right.  There was nothing of sort there, Akane knew—he was avoiding her even though she was only a few feet away from him.  

"Ranma," Akane said finally, trying to keep her voice free of anything that might be taken for negativity.  The pigtailed boy lifted his head slightly, and it took him a long moment to turn to her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Akane asked.

Ranma paused in his steps.  "Tell you what?" he said, his words sounding stiff.  Akane wondered if he'd guessed what she was asking about and was reluctant to talk about it, or if he just didn't want to talk to her at all.  Whatever the case, she tried not to be put off by it.  It wouldn't solve anything for her to get angry with him now.

"About Ryoga," she clarified, still forcing herself to be calm.  It was a difficult task, given that emotional restraint wasn't exactly one of Akane's stronger points.

Ranma stared straight ahead instead of meeting her eyes.  "What'd you expect me to tell you about him?"

They were stopped in the middle of the sidewalk now.  There was nobody else around; the only sound was the wind.  Akane watched a piece of paper blow down the other side of the street, twirling and fluttering like an oversized butterfly gone out of control.  She shifted her gaze to the young man beside her, and saw how the deep golden sunlight caught in his dark hair and pooled in his eyes.  The sight made her heart ache, though she didn't know why—all she knew was that something was going to change soon, more than things had already, and it wasn't going to be easy.

"The curse," she said finally.  "Why didn't you tell me about the curse?"

Ranma remained still for a long moment, and Akane realized that he'd known what she was asking about from the very start.  

"It wasn't mine to tell about," he said.  

Akane stared at him for several seconds, unsure of what to make of his answer.  It wasn't what she'd expected, though she wasn't sure exactly what she had been expecting anyway.  

"I know," she said.  "But…when he-"

"I knocked him into the Spring, Akane," he interrupted her.  

The dark-haired girl blinked in surprise.  "Y-you?  But I thought…"

"Then you were wrong," he said.  He turned to her at last, his expression unreadable.  "I did it.  He didn't know it at the time, because I was already cursed.  I was chasing my father, and something happened.  I didn't find out until after he got here."

Akane took a moment to process this.  Ranma…had knocked Ryoga into the Spring?  "You…" she said, her voice becoming faint.  "You knocked him in, and you didn't even _notice?"_

"That's right," Ranma replied flatly.  "I figured it out about the same time Ryoga did—that first night, when you made me take your new little pig to the bath."

"That's why you were fighting," Akane realized aloud.  

Ranma drew back slightly and swallowed hard.  "Right then, yes."

"You started to say something about it, didn't you?" Akane asked.  "You started to say something about him, but you stopped…"

"I promised I wouldn't," he said.  "That was when I thought he'd got it just because he followed me to Jusenkyo.  If that'd been true, I might've told anyway.  I couldn't, after I found out I was the one who did it to him."

Akane glanced down at her feet.  It made sense, in a way.  All the pieces had begun to fall together the day before, when Ryoga had unknowingly revealed his secret to her himself.  But there were other things bothering her about it...

"What was he like?" she asked suddenly.  "When you went to school with him before?"

Ranma looked at her oddly.  "What're you talking about?"

Akane's brows creased slightly.  "What was he like?  You knew each other…"

"He was like he is now, I guess.  But he wasn't so angry back then," Ranma told her.  "He wasn't happy, if that's what you want."  

"He wasn't as angry at you?" Akane said, confusion filtering into her voice.

Ranma's expression darkened.  "Not with me, or the rest of the world.  We were too young."

Akane thought about what he'd said for a moment.  "Why wasn't he happy?"

Ranma turned to her, his eyes brightening with anger.  "Why are you asking me this?" he demanded.

"Because I want to know," Akane replied, her voice rising to match his.  

"I _don't_ know," Ranma said heatedly.  "He couldn't find his way around back then, either.  The other guys at school bothered him all the time, and his parents were never home when he was.  Maybe _that_ had something to do with it."

"Why did you take the bread?" Akane asked him.  "If you knew he was getting teased all the time and everything, why did you do it, too?"

"I didn't!" Ranma snapped.  "That's not what I was doing, he just took it the wrong way!"

"Took it the wrong way?" Akane echoed.  "What do you mean, he took it the wrong way?"

The blue-eyed boy turned away from her.  "I mean I wasn't doing it to tease him," he said tightly.  

Akane regarded him silently for a moment.  "Then what _were_ you doing?"

Ranma appeared to flinch at her question, but he straightened so quickly it was impossible for Akane to tell for sure.  "It don't got anything to do with you," he said, his voice hard.  "Don't ask me anything else."

With that, he started walking again, away from her.  Akane watched as he moved farther and farther ahead, not turning back once to see if she was following.

Author's Notes:

Don't know about you guys, but if I'd been knocked off a cliff into a pool of water that made me turn into a piglet, then grabbed by a giant panda, held at knifepoint and told I was to be eaten, and then dumped in a pot of boiling water, I'd have been hella traumatized.  And I would've beat the shit out of the panda and the guide.  Ryoga's obviously a nicer person than I am.  

In the original version, the first caution against couple-anticipation was posted here.  But despite saying it earlier, I'm still getting a lot of 'who's going to be paired with who' type comments, so I guess I might as well say it again now—this is not really a couple-friendly fic, at least not in a romantic sense.  Ok?


	10. Part 10

Disclaimer:  Don't own 'em, don't claim to own 'em, don't sue me.

Warning:  Friends, Romans, potential flamers, lend me your ears.  Or rather your eyes, as you're reading this, not hearing it.  This chapter is on the harsh side.  I'm really not kidding (well, I didn't think it was all that earth-shatteringly horrible, but when it was up on my webpage, a lot of other people did).  Before, there was angst.  Now, there is…uber-angst.  Ryoga has a flashback, and it is not nice.  However, it is not crucial to the plot that you read the flashback, it is mostly there for emotional effect—so if you are at all worried, I am telling you now to _skip the big italicized part in the middle._  I mean it. 

Despite warning people about this on my page, I still took a lot of heat for it later.  So this time around, I mean to thoroughly get my point across.  If you don't think you'll like it, do. Not. Read. It.  And now that you've been so thoroughly warned, let me also make this clear—I will absolutely, positively not tolerate any flames regarding the content contained in the flashback.  So if you read it despite my warnings and decide you hate it…tough patooties.  Don't bother wasting time with flames, because I'll be deleting them as soon as they appear. 

Other than that…'njoy ^ ^.

Part 10

_I sit here locked inside my head__  
Remembering everything you've said  
This silence gets us nowhere  
Gets us nowhere _

_Way too fast…__  
  
_

~Staind, "For You"

_In a little while   
I'll be gone   
The moment's already passed   
Yeah it's gone   
And I'm not here   
This isn't happening  
I'm not here   
I'm not here…_

~Radiohead, "How to Disappear Completely"

Shampoo held back a sigh as she wiped down the last table with her cloth, then tossed it into the bucket at her feet.  It had been a long and busy night, one that hadn't been made any easier by her uncharacteristically heavy thoughts.  

Picking up the bucket and her spray bottle of disinfectant, Shampoo trudged to the kitchen.  She could hear her grandmother dealing with the money and paperwork in the back room, and Mousse was standing at the sink, washing the last of the dishes.  Without saying anything, Shampoo walked to the rear door and emptied the bucket outside.  She paused for a moment, watching as the grayish water swirled towards the storm drain a few yards down the alley.  Then she went back inside and busied herself with putting away the cleaning supplies. 

A few minutes later, Shampoo stood up from where she had been crouched on the floor.  She was tired, not just from the work, but from what had happened over the past two days as well.  Just thinking about it made her feel exhausted.  She reached behind her back to untie her apron.  The entire situation was so impossibly complicated that she couldn't imagine how it would ever be brought to a resolution—if it could be brought to a resolution, that was.  

Shampoo was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn't notice that Mousse was finished with what he was doing and had turned around to look at her.  She tugged at the stubborn knot she was trying to untie, grimacing slightly in annoyance as it refused to come undone.

"How long are you going to stay mad at me for this time?" Mousse asked abruptly.

Shampoo spun around on the ball of her foot to face him.  "What?" she said, surprised that he'd spoken after the hours of silence that had been between them. 

Mousse had pushed his glasses back on his forehead, revealing his turquoise eyes.  "Or maybe you haven't decided yet," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Shampoo dropped her gaze to the floor.  Annoying as it could be, she often felt Mousse was easier to deal with when he was acting ridiculously lovesick and overwrought.  This calmer, more serious person he became when something significant enough to bring him down to earth occurred wasn't so easily dismissed with the usual insults and brush-offs.

Finally succeeding in pulling the knot loose, Shampoo began to shrug the frilly apron off her shoulders.  "Shampoo not mad at stu-…at Mousse," she said quietly.  

Instead of breaking into some joyous babble of hopefulness and gratitude, Mousse simply raised his eyebrows.  "Why not?"

Shampoo kept her eyes downcast.  "Because, Shampoo should have seen that plan likely go bad from start," she answered him.  "They usually do," she muttered.

Mousse blinked.  "You…you mean you're giving up on him?" he asked, his voice a mixture of confusion, shock, and hope.

Shampoo clenched her fists and glared at him, her voice rising.  "Shampoo no say that!" she snapped, her tone heated.  She felt an unwanted twinge of guilt at the expression her words brought to Mousse's face.

"I didn't really think so," he said, unable to keep all the despondence from his voice.  "But if you aren't mad, then why are you being so…so…"

Shampoo repressed a tired sigh.  She twisted her apron in her hands, causing the delicate flower print to contort and make the tiny pink blooms appear broken and crushed.  She knew she could shake it out and they would return to normal instantly, becoming straight and full, almost as if nothing had happened at all.  If only everything were that easy.

"You know why," she said finally.

Mousse glanced up at her again and eyed her silently for a long moment.  "If I hadn't switched the vials-"

"And if Shampoo no had make powder," Shampoo interrupted him, "and if Ranma no had said bad lie.  Then this no happen."  Now she did sigh, closing her eyes wearily.  "Many mistakes, not just Mousse's.  And if what happened no happen, then who say something else not happen instead?"

"I…I know," Mousse replied.  "You're right, none of us should've…I just wish…" he trailed off momentarily.  "Why did it have to be this bad?" he said finally, his voice tight with frustration.  "No one deserves something like that, but why did it have to be _him?"_

Shampoo clutched her apron, wondering the exact same thing.  It was true that neither of them was very close to Ryoga, and it was true that the Lost Boy could be annoying on occasion, but at the same time, Shampoo couldn't think of a single person who had deserved it less.  He had little to do with her pursuit of Ranma, and next to nothing to do with Mousse's pursuit of her.  He should've remained aside from these matters in the first place, not been dragged into them without even knowing.  As if that weren't bad enough, she knew that as a person, just for who he was, Ryoga shouldn't have wound up on the receiving end of something like this.  He rarely wished harm on others, while in contrast so many of them were largely careless as to what happened to someone who got in their way.  There was the whole situation with Ranma of course, but even Shampoo knew that was half bluster rather than true intent on Ryoga's part—in spite of himself, Ryoga was almost always one of the first to jump in and help, to be willing to risk himself for someone else.  And perhaps worst of all was that Shampoo knew that of the memories that had been brought back into Ryoga's awareness, very few of them were likely to be happy ones.  From what she knew of his life, she could put it together well enough, and she knew exactly what the ability to do a perfect Shi-shi Hokodan meant.  

"It have to be him…because Ranma no would do that to anyone else," Shampoo said at last.  

"He's a bastard for it, Shampoo," Mousse said vehemently.  "If he wanted to keep Ryoga away from Akane, fine.  But he didn't have to do it like that."

Shampoo lifted her head.  "Shampoo no think that why Ranma do it," she told him.  "Maybe small part for that.  But that not real reason."

"Then what _was_ the reason?" Mousse demanded.  

"I don't _know," _she said forcefully, slipping into Cantonese as she did when she was too frustrated to express things otherwise.  "It just…I'm sure it wasn't because he thought it would…something's not right about it all-"

"Shampoo!"  Cologne's voice came from the other room, the tone scolding.  "You're in Japan, speak the right language!"

Both of the young people took a moment to shoot a petulant look towards the doorway.  "Yes, Great-grandmother," Shampoo said loudly.  Then she turned back to Mousse.  "It no matter anyway," she said to him.  "What done is done."

Mousse uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists.  "How can you still defend him?" he snapped.  "I know you're not just going to stop chasing after him for this, but how can you say it doesn't matter?  Didn't you see the look on Ryoga's face?  Do you think it doesn't matter to _him?"_  

Shampoo bit her lip and stared at the floor.  She should be angry at him for speaking to her like this, she should want to yell at him, to hit him hard enough to send him down the block…but she didn't.  She wanted to cry.

In response to her prolonged silence, Mousse let out an exasperated sigh.  She heard the soft swish of his robe as he turned, followed by the sound of his retreating footsteps.  A few moments later, Shampoo heard him going up the stairs, and then, an audible thud as he restrained himself from slamming his bedroom door shut.

Knowing he was gone, Shampoo finally released the breath she'd been holding back for so long.  She wondered how things had managed to go so wrong so quickly.  Things had a tendency to go awry around here, but this was different.  This was too much to simply brush off within the space of a few days.  This time, things had gone too far.

Shampoo went to hang her apron on the hook by the door.  She thought about how Mousse was acting.  It was almost strange, having him be really and truly angry with her, though she knew part of it was because he was feeling so awful himself.  She considered the things he'd said to her, and supposed he was right in a way—she shouldn't have said that it didn't matter; not with the part she had played, not with what had happened to Ryoga.  She knew she'd acted wrongly, and even she had to admit that Ranma had done so, too.  And yes, she had seen the look on Ryoga's face.  

But she'd seen the look on Ranma's face as well.

Shampoo wasn't sure precisely what his motives were, but she was certain that they weren't what Mousse suspected, and she was sure that he hadn't been doing it as some sort of terrible joke.  It couldn't be.  Because after Ryoga's memory had returned, after he'd leapt at Ranma in full fury, after he'd said those last, terribly sincere little words, Ranma hadn't looked like someone who'd been playing a joke.

He'd looked like someone who had just lost his best friend.

*

_Somewhere in the middle of a city, he was lost yet again_._  Osaka, perhaps, but it was hard to tell for certain_. _ He was tired—exhausted, actually_. _ He'd been wandering around without food or real sleep for over two days now_._  Something had happened to activate his curse, but his thoughts were too muddled at the moment to remember exactly what_._  He'd been near the outskirts of the city when he changed; he'd fallen in a creek or a ditch maybe_. _ His pack was gone, he'd had to leave it eventually when he got too tired to drag it any farther_. _ He hadn't been able to heat up water…why hadn't he been able to heat up water?  It was wet, Ryoga remembered_._  It had been raining the day before, making the grass and any wood too wet for a fire, and he was out of the cartridges that fueled his tiny camp burner_. _ He'd walked to the city in his cursed form, and had gotten hot water somewhere_. _ A tea house?  A vendor?  Something like that_._  Lucky for him, he'd changed back with his clothes_._  But he had no money, and though he was used to being delayed by having to look for his pack, it usually didn't take him more than a few hours to find it_. _ This time was different though, he couldn't even find his way out of here, much less find his possessions_. _ The streets were an increasingly puzzling maze to him, and were only becoming ever the more confusing as his body started using his last reserves of energy to simply keep moving_.  __

_Ryoga halted in his steps and leaned against the side of a building he was next to_._  His head ached, and the bouts of dizziness he'd been feeling since the day before were becoming more frequent and prolonged_._  There were sharp, stabbing pains in his midsection, accompanied by a dull throb in his lower back as his body protested against the lack of food_._  Ryoga glanced up to look at his surroundings_. _ He was in some sort of long, shadowy alleyway that was empty but for some battered scraps of newspaper and sparkling remains of broken bottles_._  He didn't much the like the idea of staying in such a place for very long, but he knew if he didn't rest soon, he would risk losing consciousness in an even worse place later_. __

_Ryoga made his way down the narrow street, keeping one hand on the side of the building for support_. _ After a few minutes of half-walking, half-staggering, he came to a doorway_._  It was set a good two feet into the wall, and the handle had a large padlock securing it_. _ Judging by the amount of rust on the lock, he guessed that the door hadn't been used in a long time_. _ Ryoga sighed_. _ It wasn't the best of shelters, but it would have to do for now_._  Trying to ignore the multitude of aches, he eased himself into the doorway, leaning his back against one side and drawing his knees up as far as he needed in order to fit inside_._  It wasn't the most comfortable of places to sit, but Ryoga knew from experience that it could be worse_._  He crossed his arms over his chest for warmth and rested his head against the door as weariness overtook him_._  There was little else he could do but hope that he would find his way out of here when awoke_.__

_Ryoga was just starting to doze off when he heard the sound of feet scuffing on the pavement, followed by a low mutter of voices_.  _He shifted himself awake, realizing that they were drawing closer_._  But he'd barely opened his eyes to let in what light was managing to filter its way into the alley before a shadow cast itself over him_.__

_"Well now, what do we have here?" _

_Ryoga glanced up quickly, alarmed that he'd actually allowed someone to get this close before he was fully aware of it_._  Standing in front of the doorway was a man dressed in torn jeans and a black jacket_._  Ryoga couldn't see his face well, both because the man's back was to what limited light there was, and because he wasn't in much of a position to tip his head back very far_._  Ryoga tried to look past him, and saw that there were more men grouping behind the one closest to the doorway, dressed in similar clothing_._  They looked fairly young, older than he was certainly, but none of them could be older than thirty, if that_. _ Judging by the way they were dressed and the number of them, they were a street gang of some sort_._  Ryoga felt a tremor of nervousness trying to loose itself in him, but he fought it back as best he could_._  Trying not to let his body betray him, he stood up, a task made all the more difficult by the close proximity of the man, who didn't do the courtesy of stepping back to give Ryoga room_.__

_"What do you want?" Ryoga asked, keeping his back to the door as he got a better look at the individual in front of him_._  His features were sharp and defined, and his eyes were an icy shade of gray that was almost unnerving in its intensity_. _ From his new vantage point, Ryoga could see that there were a full five people in the alley, each of them wearing an expression of cold amusement on their faces_._  Ryoga felt his uneasiness increase_._  He knew when he wasn't in much of a condition to fight well, and being in the midst of a group of people looking for trouble wasn't a good place to be while in such a condition_._  Determined not to let it show, he leveled what he hoped was an equally cold glare at the man in front of him, who Ryoga guessed was the leader_.__

_The man smirked, apparently undaunted_._  "You're trespassing, little man," he said_._  His tone was full of the deceptive levity one would expect from someone whose intentions are likely to be of the opposite nature_.__

_"I'm sorry then," Ryoga said, struggling to keep his voice calm_._  Had he been at his full strength, this entire situation wouldn't be nearly so much of a problem as it currently was a risk of becoming_._  "I didn't see any signs_._"_

_This produced a ripple of laughter from the gang members_._  "He's got a tongue, don't he Kuma," one commented_.__

_"That he does," agreed the leader, apparently known as Kuma_. _ "Especially for someone who's just been caught in a place where he don't belong_._"_

_Ryoga swallowed hard_._  "Fine," he managed to say_._  "I'll leave_._"  He tried to press himself as close to the wall as he could in order to get past, but the man shifted forward slightly and extended an arm to block his path_.

_"I don't think so," he said_._  "You're trespassing, remember?  That means you gotta pay the toll_._"_

_Ryoga stepped back slightly_._  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the others moving forward and tightening the semi-circle they had formed around him_._  "I don't have any money," he said flatly, hoping that he didn't look as nervous as he felt_.

_Kuma slid his hand down the wall until his arm was almost level with Ryoga's shoulder_._  Ryoga risked a glance towards the end of the alley, the path to which would lay clear if he could just get past this one person_._  But he knew that could change in an instant if he tried to move in that direction, and he wasn't sure he had enough strength in him to make a break for it_.__

_"Well then," Kuma said, and Ryoga turned back to him_._  "Lucky for you, money isn't the only currency we accept_._"_

_Ryoga felt his insides go cold at the man's gaze, which had long since changed from being amused to something far more aggressive and almost predatory_._  Ryoga stood staring at him for the brief instant it took for his mind to assimilate an idea of what such a look might entail_._  Then, using some of the precious little energy he had, Ryoga ducked and slipped beneath his arm_._  He'd barely gotten a step away when a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around_._  Before Ryoga could react, he felt himself being slammed against the side of the building_._  The back of his head hit the bricks hard enough to make his vision blacken momentarily_._  The next thing he knew, he was struck across the face, whether by a fist or something else he didn't know_._  The blow connected soundly with his temple, knocking him to the ground_._  He hit the pavement before he could get his arms out to stop himself, and his forehead connected with the unyielding asphalt_._  Under normal circumstances, Ryoga would've been fine, but the lack of food and rest had put him on the verge of collapse already, and this most recent abuse certainly wasn't improving things_._  As he struggled to remain conscious, Ryoga felt someone grabbing his arm and pulling him upright_._  Putting as much force behind it as he could, Ryoga jerked his other arm backwards, slamming his elbow into whoever was holding him_.

_"Bastard!" the person shouted, releasing him abruptly_._  Ryoga managed to get one of his legs out from under him and stood up_._  The others were moving towards him now, keeping him completely surrounded_._  One, a tall man with bleached blond hair, lunged towards him_._  It was only the careless nature of the attack that afforded Ryoga the time to dodge_._  He retaliated with a straight punch to the man's face, but was dismayed to find that even though it connected solidly, it only sent him staggering backwards instead of flying into the opposite wall_._  But Ryoga didn't have much time to reflect on it before he was grabbed from behind by the largest member of the group, a greasy looking character who was at least three or four times his size_._  Two thick arms wrapped around Ryoga's chest and lifted him slightly, pinning his own arms to his sides and preventing him from gaining any purchase with his feet_._  Ryoga fought against him wildly for a moment, knowing he couldn't keep this up for long_._  If he didn't manage to get away soon…_

_A fourth stepped forward, a dark half-grin on his face as he drew back his fist and threw it forward, striking Ryoga in the abdomen_._  A wave of anger ignited within him, allowing Ryoga to ignore the pain momentarily_._  Fueled by little else than bare rage, Ryoga swung his leg up and kicked his tormenter in the chest_._  With gravity now on his side, Ryoga brought his foot back down and connected his heel with his captor's knee_._  The man let out a grunt of pain and loosened his grip_._  Ryoga tried to pull himself free, but others were stepping forward now, grabbing him and pushing him back against the larger man, who was recovering all too quickly_._  Instead of trying to hold on to him again, he stepped aside and helped the bleached blonde shove Ryoga against the wall_._  Once there, they each grabbed an arm, both keeping one hand above his elbow and the other gripping his wrist_._  Ryoga tried to twist himself away, but they were both too strong—or he was too weak_._  He felt their legs press against his in order to prevent him from kicking, effectively trapping all of his limbs_._  He could feel the roughness of bricks at his back, and he knew there was no place for him to go_._  The others were quickly regrouping as well; the one he'd kicked was standing again with the aid of the last, a lanky individual with dyed blue hair and a silver-studded face_._  They stepped forward until Kuma raised a cautioning hand_.__

_"Careful, boys," he said, though he was obviously entertained by the display_._  "This one's got teeth_._"_

_"Little prick," hissed the one, his hand moving to rub his chest_._  He glared at Ryoga with undisguised malice in his narrowed eyes_.

_"You practically asked for that, Eisuke," said the man on Ryoga's left, the blonde-haired one_._  "You saw he can fight_._"_

_" 'Could' fight," the leader corrected him, moving to stand in front of Ryoga again_._  "He's not gonna be doing much of anything, now_._"  _

_"Let me go," Ryoga snapped, trying to make his anger overpower the gnawing fear he was feeling_._  He glared up at Kuma, hoping his voice had sounded steadier to them than it had to him_._  But the man only gave him a chill smile that was followed by more dry laughter from the others_._  Then, without so much as blinking, he reached out and backhanded Ryoga across the face_.

_"You're not in much of a position to be making demands, don't you think?" Kuma said, though to Ryoga, the words sounded hazy and far away_._  He struggled to get a grasp on his reeling thoughts, to figure out something that would get him out of this…_

_Ryoga felt a hand brush his cheek, the cool fingertips lightly tracing his jaw_._  The touch yanked him back to awareness, and he jerked away, nearly striking the back of his head against the building as he did so_.  _"Get away from me!" he cried, outraged at what was happening_._  Anger and indignation rose within him; if only he hadn't been lost for days, he would never be getting toyed with by a group of street slime like this_._  Yet at the same time, Ryoga felt an icy terror starting to wrap its way around his heart_._  He was only a few steps above being helpless, and he was uncertain if he'd even remain there for much longer_._  He was outnumbered and outsized, and though they weren't martial artists, these people obviously had some fighting experience_._  Pain flared through him yet again, and it took Ryoga a moment to realize that he'd been slapped a second time_.__

_"Shut up," Kuma snarled, his eyes steely_._  "You've got a big mouth for a little piece of trash that's strayed out of its can, you know that?"_

_"Go to hell," Ryoga spat, fury overwhelming his sense of self-preservation_.__

_The man's smile returned slowly, and without taking his eyes off Ryoga, he reached into his pocket_._  There was a flash of silver as the switchblade snapped out of its metal sheath, its surface gleaming in the dim light_._  The sight of it sent another jolt of fear through Ryoga as Kuma stepped forward and slid a hand under his chin_._  Ryoga tried to pull away, but the fingers tightened their hold, making his jaw ache_.

_"Listen up, kid," he hissed through the smile_._  He leaned in close, causing Ryoga to pull back reflexively, but it was a futile effort given the man's grip_._  The scent of stale cigarette smoke, musty leather, and the sickly-sweet stench of alcohol surrounded him_._  Ryoga fought down a wave of nausea as he tried not to look at the knife poised inches away from him_.

_"You're gonna keep your mouth shut and do what I tell you," Kuma ordered_._  "And if you don't, I'm gonna carve my initials into that pretty face of yours_._  Understand?"_

_Ryoga stayed silent, his heart frozen in his chest_._  His arms were starting to throb painfully where the rough hands were pressing into the flesh, reminding him that he had very few options_._  He tried desperately to think of something, anything, that would help him_._  He felt so weak, and his entire body was flooded with various forms of pain, all of his muscles aching and burning with tension_._  Even a Shi-shi Hokodan was impossible when he couldn't so much as bring his hands together, not to mention focus when fear was flooding through him like this…_

_Kuma leaned back slightly, letting go of Ryoga's face_._  "That's better," he said_._  He slid his hand down and hooked his fingers on the fabric of Ryoga's shirt, then brought forward the knife_._  Ryoga held still for a moment, not entirely sure of what was going to happen_._  He glanced around nervously, taking in the cruel leers stamped upon all the men's features_._  Then he felt the knife begin to slice through his shirt, leaving no uncertain terms as to what they planned to do with him_._  The cold sharpness of the blade touched his chest, leaving a trail of pain followed by a thin wake of blood_._  The full reality of the situation suddenly became horrifically clear, loosing a wave of absolute terror through his trembling body_._  Utter panic rose in him, sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins_.__

_"No!" Ryoga gasped, his dark eyes widening_._  With a desperate yank, he managed to untangle one of his legs_._  He instantly brought his knee up with all his might, not caring that it only struck Kuma's hip instead of his midsection_._  It was still enough to send the man staggering a few feet back, giving Ryoga precious time_._  One of the men holding him leaned forward to steady their flailing leader, momentarily forgetting to maintain his grip_._  Ryoga twisted frantically in an effort to get loose, his desperation increasing the strength of his movements_._  He broke free an instant before the recovered and enraged Kuma dove at him, knife upraised_._  Unable to avoid the attack, Ryoga threw his arm up in a block_._  The blade slashed into his forearm, sending a flare of heated pain through him_._  Nonetheless, he managed to raise his leg in a kick, connecting his foot solidly with the man's shoulder_._  More were rushing towards him now, and the man grasping his other arm turned, swinging his fist_._  Ryoga dropped into a crouch and the intended blow sailed over his head_._  He glanced down at the surface of the street, now bare inches away, and plunged his hand into the pavement_.__

_The asphalt exploded, sending a hail of black in all directions_._  The men jumped backwards, trying to cover their faces as pieces of rock and hardened tar rained against them_._  Ignoring the startled shouts and curses of the gang members, Ryoga leapt to his feet and ran, knowing he had mere seconds before they came after him_._  He turned the corner and dashed down the street, drawing forth every last bit of energy he had, never slowing or even looking back to see if he was being followed_.

_Ryoga ran on and on, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his body fought to keep moving_._  Finally unable to go any further, he stumbled and fell to the ground_._  His heart was pounding, and his head throbbed mercilessly as black spots danced before his eyes_._  Ryoga fought to slow his labored breathing, a task made more difficult by the sharp, stabbing pain in his side and the uncontrollable trembling of his body_._  After a few moments, his vision began to clear and some of the pain in his head receded_._  Ryoga slowly pushed himself to his feet, despite the raging protest of his muscles_._  He glanced around at his new surroundings, and saw that he was in some sort of marketplace, though the streets were deserted_._  It was hardly surprising, considering the early evening hours were setting in, and the sun was no longer visible in the sky_.

_Ryoga swallowed, trying to rid his mouth of the metallic aftertaste of blood and fear_._  He finally turned to look over his shoulder, and was relieved to see no one was there_._  He glanced at the store he was standing closest to, noting how the surface of its large front window mirrored the last violet reds of the sunset_._  Ryoga stepped closer and gazed at his reflection in the darkened glass, taking in the sight of his dusty, tear-streaked face, marred with darkening bruises, his torn and disheveled clothes, and the bloodied gash on his forearm_._  Then he turned away and began walking_.

_Later, when he would find his pack and get back on the road, he would tell himself it didn't matter how he'd gotten the bruises, or how his shirt had been ripped, or what the wound on his arm was from_._  He would have to fix the clothes, and keep the cuts clean until they healed_._  But that was all_.

_Anything else simply didn't exist_.

Ryoga shuddered, bringing his awareness to the present again.  He glanced up at the window, noting the darkness lying in wait behind the glass.  He thought of what might be lurking in certain spots of that darkness and shivered again, glad for the first time to be inside Ukyo's house.

Ryoga hugged his knees to his chest, wishing he hadn't remembered _that_.Some things were best forgotten.

Like his entire, miserable life.

He squeezed his eyes shut, preparing to lower his head into his arms, but something made him jump nervously.  Ryoga glanced over his shoulder.  There was nothing there, of course, just the wall, same as before.  He sighed inwardly, disliking the vaguely familiar sense of paranoia stirring in him.  There was no reason for it really, he was here, not lost in the middle of Osaka or wherever he'd been all that time ago…

Ryoga paused at the thought. 

All _what_ time ago?  

When…when had that happened?  He pushed a hand through his bangs, his thoughts spinning.  A moment later, he lifted his head, realization dawning on him.  He glanced down at his arm, then grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and pulled it back.  In the middle of his forearm was a long, thin scar; the freshly healed tissue still red and defined, and not possibly more than two months old.

Ryoga moaned and covered his eyes with his hands, a wave of nausea flowing through him.  He didn't need to look at his chest to see the sister scar that would be there, thinner and paler since it hadn't been as deep, but it would be there, clear as the one on his arm.  To know that it had happened so recently…he had nothing to comfort himself with, nothing that might let him convince himself it couldn't happen again.  He couldn't tell himself he was older or bigger or stronger, because he _wasn't_.  He was still seventeen, still cursed, still prone to getting lost, and there was nothing to keep him from ending up lost and hungry and weak in a dark alley prowled by people who'd like to…

_No,_ Ryoga told himself, slamming the door on that line of thought.  It hadn't happened.  It hadn't happened.  Nothing had happened.  

"Nothing happened," he murmured out loud, though to his ears the voice seemed not his own, and did little to reassure him.  He struggled to put it out of his thoughts, to keep the door closed.  He'd built mental walls around this before, he could do it again…

Except he couldn't.  Not this time.  When it had happened, he'd been able to detach himself from the whole event enough to almost deny its existence entirely.  But how could he detach himself from a memory?  A memory that could only be his?  There was no escaping it now; he simply didn't have the wherewithal to construct the necessary emotional brickwork yet again.

Ryoga felt the all-too-familiar sting of tears in his eyes.  Even distracting himself with other things was out of the question, for the only distractions were nearly as bad.  Which was better—thoughts of fresh hurt and ruined hopes, or memories of fear and past ordeals?  What kind of a choice was that?

Ryoga trembled slightly and tried to get a hold of himself.  It was hardly a choice at all, but what could he do?  Pick an option, or have one picked for him by his restless subconscious.  There hardly seemed to be a point.

Unless he made a new option.

Ryoga lifted his head.  He couldn't control what he remembered, but he could control some of what he might be distracted by.  

And distance from certain reminders couldn't hurt, either.          

*

Night fell slowly, stealing in from beyond the edges of the horizon and covering over the last of the lingering daylight with shadows.  After the reds and golds of the sunset had faded away, the sky shifted to increasingly deeper shades of blue, then indigo, and finally black.  

Within the brightly-lit dojo, Akane paid little attention to the arrival of night.  She was sitting on the smooth wood of the floor, dressed in her yellow gi and breathing a little heavily from the series of katas she'd just been through.  She knew that if she'd been concentrating more on what she was doing, her breaths would've remained more in time with her movements and would not have escaped her as it had.  But her mind had been full of thoughts that had nothing to do with her katas.

Akane sighed, wondering if Ryoga was doing any better than Ukyo had said the day before.  She'd tried calling once she got home from the Cat Café, but Ukyo hadn't picked up the phone.  Akane had taken it as a sign that she probably had her hands full.  She'd considered going over to the restaurant this afternoon, or at least calling again, but something had kept her from doing either.  For one thing, she suspected that Ukyo had gone easy on her when telling her about Ryoga, particularly after Akane had found out exactly what the powder had done.  She figured that Ryoga was probably much worse off than she'd thought—and worse than Ukyo had let on—and Akane was afraid that if she called or showed up there it would somehow make things worsen even further.  

On top of that, Akane was also feeling troubled over the conversation she'd had with Ranma on their way home.  He'd been in a touchy mood, which she supposed was somewhat understandable, especially after she'd started questioning him nonstop on matters he obviously didn't want to be asked about.  She'd had to know why he hadn't told her about Ryoga's curse, and she'd hoped Ranma would tell her that Ryoga's past hadn't been such a bad thing to remember.  But Akane knew she hadn't really had much right to be asking about other things.  Ranma had made it plain to her on prior occasions that aside from the bread fight, he had no wish to talk about anything else that had gone on between Ryoga and himself.  She'd surmised early on that there was more to it than he'd told her—there were too many things that weren't explained by a drawn-out scuffle between two little boys over cafeteria food for there not to be.  She'd even tried asking Ryoga about it once, but he'd simply said something about there not being much to tell since she already knew about the bread, and then changed the subject.  

Akane rubbed her eyes.  She supposed it wasn't really any of her business, but it might help her understand why things had taken the courses they had.  

Like why Ranma had started this entire thing in the first place.

That had been puzzling Akane from the start.  What were his motives?  Why had he tricked Ryoga, when there didn't seem to be much in it for him?  Had Ranma _wanted_ her to find out about Ryoga's curse?  That didn't seem right, there were a hundred different ways he could've done that and all of them easier, and besides, he'd always worked so hard to keep her from finding out that it didn't really make sense that he'd suddenly change his mind.  Had he been hoping to make Ryoga dislike her or vice versa?  And if that was his aim, then why?  Besides, Dr. Tofu had told them that people with amnesia usually regained their memories, so Ranma had to know that couldn't possibly work very well.  Had he done it just for the sake of tricking Ryoga?  That didn't seem right either—it was true that Ranma seemed to like teasing Ryoga well enough, even to the point where it bordered being hurtful, but to do so this way…that bordered real cruelty, and Ranma wasn't like that.  Not to mention that he seemed sincerely upset over how things had turned out.

So what could it possibly be?  

Akane pushed herself to her feet and made her way outside.  The grass was cool and wet beneath her feet, and she could see softly rounded dewdrops clinging to the blades by the light of the moon.  She glanced over her shoulder at the roof, making sure that Ranma wasn't there—she knew he'd been spending time up there lately, apparently as a means of avoiding everyone.  Or maybe he was making it easier for them to avoid him.

Akane walked over to the koi pond.  She gazed down at its mirror-like water, and the reflection of the glittering stars spilling across the night sky above.  A bright leaf drifted down before her to settle on the surface, sending out a myriad of silvery ripples that made the water-trapped stars shimmer.  A few moments later, the pond returned to its former glassy stillness, and she wished things were back to normal.

Akane knew it was a vain hope.  Too many things had already changed, and this very moment still others were shifting like sands in the wind.  Besides that, Akane was beginning to wonder just how good 'normal' had actually been.  She wasn't so naïve as to be completely unaware of the things that had been pressing up from beneath the surface for months and months; the underlying tensions that had repeatedly been put aside, ignored, or left unaddressed because it seemed easier to just let things be for the moment.  Now that some of these were being brought to light, Akane had a feeling that more would follow.  But maybe it wouldn't be so bad.  Maybe they could still fix things.

Akane straightened up again.  Cologne had told them the extent of what the powder had done, and Ukyo herself had said Ryoga wasn't doing well.  That made helping him the number one priority to Akane, now more than ever.  But doing nothing wasn't going to help anything.  And that made Akane determined to do something.

Tomorrow, she would go to Ukyo's.  And she would talk to Ryoga.

No matter what.

*

Ukyo scowled slightly as she rummaged through the cabinet hanging over the bathroom sink, searching for something that might help settle Ryoga down enough for her to make him eat.  She let out an irritated sigh and slammed the little door shut, unable to find the sought-after anti-nausea medicine or anything else that might prove useful, then stalked into the kitchen.

After whatever had happened to him yesterday, Ryoga had refused to talk to her much, claiming he was tired.  Ukyo had decided that if he wanted to play that game it was fine with her, so she'd given him a cup of tea laced with a fair amount of the valerian extract she kept around in case of insomnia.  Consequently, he hadn't so much as stirred from where she'd put him on the couch until around noon.  Having successfully made him get some real rest, Ukyo had figured the next order of business was to get some food in him.  She'd hoped to find something that would help keep it in him—in the event that she managed to convince him this time around—but after a quick search of the kitchen drawers, it became apparent that she was fresh out of little bubblegum-pink tablets that were supposed to do that sort of thing.

Ukyo clenched her teeth for a moment, trying to keep her frustration in check.  The last thing she wanted was to make this mess worse, and she certainly wasn't going to let that happen as a product of her misplaced annoyance.  Ukyo took a few deep breaths, trying to release her tension with her exhales.  Then she noticed something that made her breath catch in her throat.

Ryoga's pack was missing.

Ukyo stared at the spot where it had been for a long, tense moment, trying to think.

_I was in the shower, _she remembered.  _He was asleep again, so I thought it was Ok_._  He must've woken up…damn it, I left the door half open so I could hear him if he went past or something…_

Ukyo tried to still her whirling thoughts.  She was jumping to conclusions; she might've moved it herself and just forgotten, or maybe Ryoga had wanted something out of it, all she had to do was go check…

She turned around and ran down the hallway, turning the corner into the living room so quickly that she nearly sent herself careening into the sofa.  Steadying herself, she glanced down…

And saw nothing but the discarded blanket on the floor.

"Damn it," Ukyo murmured.  She bent down and picked it up, feeling tears burn her eyes.

It was warm.

Dropping it, Ukyo darted to the window.  Gripping the sill with her hands, she leaned out and looked up the street, then down.  Several blocks away, she spotted a figure wearing a dark yellow shirt and carrying a backpack.

"Ryoga!" Ukyo cried.  The figure halted, and turned.

He looked up at her, his dark eyes meeting hers for a long moment.  She opened her mouth, wanting to tell him to come back, but she was caught up in looking at his face and the silent expression of anguish written across it.

Then he turned, rounded the corner, and vanished.  

"No," Ukyo said breathlessly.  "Wait…"

She would go after him.  Ryoga was sick and hurting and upset and whatever else, she couldn't just let him wander off…

She could call Akane and the others.  They would help.  Ukyo went back to kitchen and lifted the phone from its  hook.  He wouldn't be happy about it, but it was for the best…

Ukyo thought of the look in his eyes.  Sadness.  Betrayal.  Pain.

_This isn't going to work, _she realized suddenly.  No matter what Akane might've said, or how Ranma might try to explain, Ryoga wasn't—couldn't—handle it right at this point.  She understood now, and could see that he needed not only to sort out what had happened, but everything else that he'd been through as well.  There was no way for him to do it other than by himself—anyone he might've considered looking to for help had broken any trust he might've once had in them, and Ukyo doubted he would rush to hand his heart back over to those who had mistreated it so callously.  All of them had known there was a degree of fragility beneath the surface, and they'd been pushing the boundaries for a long time, convincing themselves that Ryoga's physical strength and tough words signified something different than what was really there.  Now, Ukyo realized, they'd finally pushed too far, and she knew she'd have to let him go.

She didn't like the idea of him being on his own for several reasons, but if getting away from the sources of his hurt was the only thing that would keep away the breakdown she sensed was threatening, then it was necessary.  She hung the phone up absently.  

"Jackass," she murmured, her throat feeling constricted. "You could've…you at least could've said goodbye…"

But then, of course, she would've tried to stop him.  Ukyo sighed.  Ryoga had a tendency to make entrances—he was continually bursting in unexpectedly with some dramatic words or an attack of some sort.  But over time, she'd come to realize that his departures were often the opposite—he slipped out or wandered off, almost always when no one was watching, making few or no waves as he did so.  Ukyo went over to a window and looked out at the empty street.  She wondered how long it would be before she saw another one of his entrances.  A while at least, he wasn't likely to want to come back any time soon…

_I forgot that I hate my life_…

No, Ukyo concluded, Ryoga wouldn't be coming back any time soon.

Author's Notes:

Before anyone says that what happened in the flashback wouldn't happen to someone like Ryoga, hear me out.  I know he's strong and skilled, and I know he's experienced and can take care of himself.  But he's also young, prone to getting lost, and therefore prone to ending up in dangerous situations.  Even for someone with remarkable endurance like his, a few days without adequate food, water, and rest can and will make him very weak and vulnerable.   Given the number of times in the series that Ryoga is attacked or set upon during his travels, and given the number of times he's shown suffering from excessive fatigue or even passing out, I really can't say I find what goes on in the flashback to be unlikely.  Actually, I think it's probably more likely than not that he would have something like this happen to him eventually—law of averages, one of the times that he's attacked is eventually going to coincide with one of the times that he's in bad shape and unable to defend himself

properly.


End file.
